Adoration
by blob80
Summary: ItaHina. A collection of (mostly) interrelated shorts. Itachi's POV, unless otherwise stated. AU. Usually Non-Massacre, but there are some modern ones thrown in, too. Ratings vary.
1. Adoration

_Disclaimer: I don't own Naruto._

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He took her for granted.

No, Itachi amended, perhaps that was too harsh. Rather, his little brother's overly loud best friend was just too dense. Too oblivious. Too immature. Too. Too. Too. Itachi could go on and on about the extremes in Naruto's personality, but really it all boiled down to the simple fact that the boy was simply just energetic. He was always caught by someone or something else, never bothering to spare a glance at the blossoming woman that always trailed a step behind. With a torch that wasn't so secret after so many years.

She supported him in the comfort of shadows as a woman raised in a clan as traditional as the Hyuga should. To step closer, was to risk impropriety. To speak louder, was to be labelled crass. Impeccable manners were a trademark of older clans. Even the Nara and Aburame, and to some extent, the Inuzuka all behaved the same depending on the clan's situation. It just so happened that the Hyuuga carried those cold manners with them in their day to day lives.

And Hyuga Hinata, while not the strongest shinobi, was without a doubt, the ideal wife. She made up for her lack of strength in brains, beauty, and grace. Her patience and kindness were of the infinite sort which people took advantage of. It prompted outside protection from her clan and those around her, but they always failed to notice how she was far more than she let on. With age, Hinata's personality had grown firm enough to confidently cease what she didn't find likable, and if someone were to take advantage of her generous nature, it was scarcely ever done without her knowledge—and her quiet acquiescence.

She was a force to be reckoned with. Pure, despite the demands of their livelihood. With the appearance of naivete, she gathered many to her side. An epitome of innocence and virtue. She was elegance incarnate. As a woman, she was more than any man could ask for. As a wife, she belonged strictly on the arms of feudal lords and future clan heads. Any less would be an insult not only to her standing as heiress, but to her as a person.

Her beauty was an added perk.

But to Naruto, she was simply Team Eight's Hyuga Hinata. Neji's cousin. Second, third, maybe even fourth best. She was his friend. Barely.

But Itachi knew that if given a few years, the blond that had overlooked her throughout their childhood would wise up, see that there was no romantic love buried in his pink-haired companion's heart for him, no companionship in the lonely Hokage's seat he strived for, no warm meal or supportive wife after a long day to love him unconditionally, and then he would turn around to finally see her standing there. Smiling. Arms open. Accepting him, despite how much he had dragged his feet on his way to reach her.

Unfortunately for him, Itachi, having grown up in a traditionalist household himself and naturally talented at spotting both potential and worth, had beaten him to it. He'd taken a shortcut, swooping in before the blond could even consider the possibility of a relationship. Itachi stole the prize perfectly content to wait at the end of the boy's road with no remorse. And he'd do it again.

Really, he should've thanked the blond for his temperament. For his attention that tunneled only into what he could see with his eyes. For—if it didn't sound arrogant—his slow development. Because if not for that, he wouldn't be waking up every single morning to the sight of a sleeping goddess dwarfed in his shirt, blankets pushed to her waist, where they tangled around her exposed legs. Her hair fanned out behind her in an arc that contrasted sharply against the brighter sheets.

Light was beginning to seep through their bedroom window, and Itachi regarded it for a moment. He always woke just minutes before the sun rose. Even when he was utterly exhausted, his eyes would at least open long enough to see dawn, before he fell back asleep.

Not today, however.

Today, he was his usual self. As he watched his wife sleep. He traced the delicate slope of her jaw with his eyes, before grabbing a long lock of hair and pressing it reverently to his lips.

Since he was young, Itachi had noticed everything and he took very little of it for granted. He had once attributed it to another quirk of early intelligence, but then realized that it was nothing more than maturity and his exposure to warfare in his youth. Experiences were what made a person after all.

Itachi settled back, so that he was facing her. He made a point to ignore the curve of her body under his plain shirt. Soft and supple. Innocence and sin all boiled into one. His clan's crest was emblazoned proudly on the back, further marking her as his. Instead, he paid special attention to the way her nose wrinkled ever so slightly when he caressed her cheek with his thumb.

 _Adorable._

She was everything he wasn't. Embodied all the good inside of him that he never had the opportunity to outwardly express.

Hinata was made for him.

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 _A/N:_ _This was a product of ten minutes of boredom on my cell. Excuse any typos. Depending on the feedback I receive, **I may turn this into a dump of Itahina shorts in the future.**_

 _P_ _lease review._


	2. Regret

_Disclaimer: I don't own Naruto._

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If that blond idiot didn't step a respectable distance away from his wife within the next ten seconds, then Itachi couldn't be held responsible for his actions. Cute little brother's best friend or not, there were limits to how close you could get to another man's woman without being kicked in the face. Especially if you were that woman's ex-love. Never mind that nothing ever blossomed between the two or that Hinata didn't encourage the light press of his fingers on her arm.

She'd confessed to him once upon a time.

And that was enough to make Itachi see red.

Though not nearly enough to crack his perfect mask. As he finally reached them, Itachi could feel his face actually becoming _more_ stoic.

"Itachi," Hinata greeted immediately. Her eyes warm and her smile widening by the second.

Beside her, Naruto stiffened, his hand dropping immediately. If he was a lesser man, he would've smirked in triumph and made sure the blond saw it. Thankfully for everyone, he wasn't. Gloating— _true_ gloating, without an undertone of teasing—was beyond him. Too inane for the Uchiha heir... and he doubted Hinata would appreciate it very much.

"Hinata," he replied, replacing his fingers where Naruto's had been not even three seconds before.

"I thought we were meeting in front of the Hokage's building."

"The meeting ended early." He shrugged.

"You didn't have to come all the way out here," she said, fingers brushing the bags under his eyes in worried disapproval. He needed rest. "If you're tired, you should've waited in the Jonin lounge until it was time for us to meet. I know Lord Sixth has been pushing you recently."

"I noticed your chakra," came the simple response. He didn't bother saying that he had also noticed Naruto's chakra and had gotten unduly worried over the thought of them being alone. Itachi figured it was transparent—to the blond anyway, since his eyes widened in realization.

"But still..." she trailed off.

Itachi's hand caught hers, effectively putting an end to her meddling. For now. "I wanted to see you, Hinata."

She looked away, the blush on her cheeks spreading all the way to her ears.

"I—I wanted to see you, too."

And just like that, any envy or anger that had been pooling in his stomach quickly diminished into nothing.

"If you'll excuse us then," Itachi said, glancing briefly at Naruto.

The Jinchuriki jumped at being suddenly addressed, before he nodded and gave a forced smile. "O—Of course. Sorry for keeping her!"

"She has nothing left for you to keep," he whispered to the blond, before pulling Hinata closer to his side. Louder, he told him, "I believe Sasuke is looking for you. He mentioned it after the meeting."

"Y—Yea." Naruto waved a hesitant hand, put off by the threat hiding somewhere in Itachi's perfectly even voice. Sasuke was terrifying when angry, but Itachi was a different league entirely. "I'll go see him then."

Itachi nodded, giving Hinata time to bow cordially, before leaving.

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 **Requested: Naruto's POV**

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It was harder than Naruto ever could've imagined.

The bruises on his heart; while no longer as tender as they once had been, were still yellow and half-healed. And being forced to cut out the tender rotting pieces where his indigo-haired _friend_ had made a home was just something he had trouble doing.

It was strange that it hurt, since she'd already migrated to another. Even stranger was the fact that he faltered over a romantic relationship that he'd thrown away—out of ignorance. Not out of any real problem with Hinata, herself.

Maybe that was the root of the problem.

They were over before they even had the chance to begin.

He just didn't know back then. He didn't see past the shyness or the grand family name that cemented her as a part of the village. She was a part of something. Even if she did have trouble every now and again, HInata had a little sister to smother, a father to please, and a cousin to skirt around.

That was what he saw.

As a child, Naruto didn't bother with her quiet, unsuspecting beauty. It was too refined, he supposed. Too _blend-in-the-background_. It didn't pop like others in their generation. Hyuga were meant to stand out for their skills. Everything else was surplus. Besides, focused as he was on Sakura, his friends, and getting the rest of the village to acknowledge him in the same way they acknowledged the members of her clan, he'd completely missed his chance.

It was clear that others didn't make the same mistake.

Something he first noticed when his friends that belonged to clans began talking about their parents forcing them into attending marriage meetings. The conversation had started with Choji wanting a woman that could cook for him, then somehow morphed into Hinata more than likely wedding the neighboring country's feudal lord to strengthen political ties. Apparently, the geezer had taken an interest in her when no one was looking.

Very few approved of Hinata marrying outside of the village, so Uchiha Itachi's sudden interest in her had been both a blessing and a curse to the Hyuga clan. The latter because of the long-standing competition of who was most supreme between the two groups.

As Naruto watched them walk away, Hinata's arms curled around one of Itachi's, her eyes twinkling as she spoke to him about something with a blush decorating his cheeks, he felt like that child on the swing all over again. He'd realized long ago that there was something profoundly sad about hollowness. But today, he found out about the frightening toxicity from being the one left behind.

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 _A/N: I'm_ _ **considering**_ _requests, so show me what you guys got. I'll pick and choose the one's I find interesting. Everything from K to M is okay. All shorts are no longer than 1k words._


	3. Pregnant

Disclaimer: I don't own Naruto.

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 **Request by: LuceRunsAway** (Pregnant Hinata and protective Itachi.)

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They were currently standing in a rather busy corner of Konoha's marketplace, and while Itachi knew their little trio was attracting attention—and not for the usual reasons Uchihas and Hyuugas did—Itachi just couldn't be bothered. Not today. Not when he'd just gotten back from an especially grueling field mission in the land of Tea to find... _this._

"Sasuke," Itachi said, exasperated for once at his foolish younger brother. Black painted fingernails rubbed at his temple, as he tried and failed to ease the headache building there. His other hand was preoccupied with the many grocery bags his wife had been lugging around with her.

His _pregnant_ wife.

His _eight-month pregnant_ wife.

Truthfully, he expected this from his brother's best friend, perhaps even Kakashi, but Sasuke? Really? Men from clans were known for their traditional values, but it seemed his brother was the great exception. Even Nara Shikamaru, Konoha's genius tactician and arguably the laziest man in existence was more of a gentleman. A slight chauvinist, but a gentleman.

Itachi questioned his little brother's sanity at this point—and then his manners next. Their mother's gentle, but firm teachings never seemed to stick with him. But he at least thought his little brother would be a bit more considerate seeing as how Hinata was in such a delicate state.

Itachi knew for a fact that Sasuke knew that her own mother had had problems with pregnancy because he had made sure to explicitly tell him. Twice. While he was completely sober and focused. He did it so that he wouldn't stumble across something as foolish as finding his wife—who, did he mention could hardly even find the will to move some days?—carrying four plastics in her hand, while his brother decided to stick his hands as deep in his pockets as they could go.

"It's dinner, Itachi," Sasuke defended. "Meat, seasoning, a few vegetables. You're overreacting. She's not carrying a damn foldable bookshelf. I could carry all that with a finger!"

"Then why didn't you?"

There was a reflecting pause at the logic in his older brother's question, before Sasuke snarled stubbornly, turning his head away and folding his arms like he had absolutely nothing to feel repentant for.

"Because I insisted on carrying it," Hinata intervened, momentarily distracting her husband with a firm squeeze of his arm. Her soothing fingers came up to replace his own against his temple, rubbing it and letting her chakra flow through to rid him of the annoying ache.

Her loving touch wasn't enough to deter him. Itachi knew she was covering for Sasuke. He could see it in the way she smiled at him. Too polite. Too appeasing. It made him want to reach over and stretch her cheeks with his thumbs until she gave a brighter, cheerier smile. He refrained from doing so, however. Not wanting to let others hear the endearing squeaks of indignation that would surely follow.

He poked her forehead instead.

And for a seemingly endless moment, all they did was stare at each other, trying to get the other to back down. In the distance, birds cawed and children screamed. Closer, Sasuke still huffed, though he was glancing at them from the corner of his eye, waiting to see who would emerge the winner.

Usually, it was his brother.

But ever since Hinata had gotten pregnant and began getting angry or crying for the most absurd of reasons, he budged far more often. But he still had the advantage—and every single one of them knew it. As soon as Itachi's eyes bled red or he'd invade her personal space, whatever resistance, whatever problem she had would suddenly become far less urgent.

But Itachi's Sharingan wasn't activated. Neither was he stepping any closer.

So, they waited.

Much to everyone's dismay, however, there was no winner.

The intense stare down was broken when Itachi suddenly drew her forward by the arm, as a man that hadn't been looking where he was going stepped past. He would've bumped right into her. Rather roughly at that, if his size was anything to go by.

The man, seeming to notice that he just narrowly avoided hitting someone, turned around to apologize.

"Oops," he said, tilting his head back to look at the couple, "Sorry about th—"

He came face to face with a glare so disturbing that the apology ended in a terrified shriek that sounded as if it came more from a woman or a small child than an adult male. Distantly, Itachi noted HInata's suddenly tight hold around his waist and Sasuke's hand gripping his shoulder with enough force to shatter a boulder.

Itachi would've scoffed if he didn't think it would just make them tighten their grips even more. But really, why did they even bother? Like he needed to be anywhere near the man to do damage.

"Itachi," his wife called in that reprimanding voice of hers that he still hadn't developed a good defense against.

"Mmm?"

"Look at me."

He didn't do so right away. More out of defiance than anything else. He knew he was acting juvenile. Perhaps the stress of being constantly on guard in the land of Tea had gotten to his head. But he waited until the man had fled from their little group and for Sasuke's fingers that were still wrapped around his shoulder to ease. When they didn't drop completely, Itachi brushed them aside.

Finally looking down at her, his eyes widened in surprise at what he saw in her eyes—emotions brimming with things he didn't want to give name to. But there was enough of them to make him feel unworthy.

Itachi never knew tenderness before her. Not like this. This was uncomfortable. And despite the confident way he held himself, he felt too clumsy for it. Too awkward. Too everything. But Hinata was so eager, and her eyes were so bright, and—

He could try.

"I'm still here," Sasuke announced, coughing uncomfortably. The sappy face his brother was making made him queasy. "So, if you two could tone down the affection that would be great."

"I know you are," Itachi said serenely, gaze never wavering from Hinata's now red face. "And I'm nowhere near done with you yet."


	4. Nightie

_Disclaimer: I don't own Naruto._

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 ** _Request by: WhiteGems_** _(ItaHinaSasu)_

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Contrary to popular belief, Sasuke was interested in many women.

Though perhaps not the deep, emotional sort of interest that they all sought from him. But he did find quite a number of them—ninja and civilian alike—attractive. Sexy, even. Ino and Temari, for example, belonged to the latter. While Sakura and Tenten, belonged to the former.

He wasn't blind. And he definitely wasn't gay. But really, even gay men had no trouble admitting when a woman was beautiful or blindingly sexy, so he'd never really understood that argument in the first place. If anything, they were more vocal about their—

That wasn't the point, damnit!

He was a man. A straight, hot-blooded Uchiha male with urges, so he had no qualms about admitting that he found certain women attractive... in his mind anyway. He wasn't a crass pervert like _some_ silver-haired ninjas he knew.

So, he had no trouble, _absolutely none_ , mentally acknowledging just how generous the gods had been when creating the indigo-haired beauty sleeping soundly in his bed. He probably should've been thinking more logical thoughts like why she was there in the first place or just how often did this happen while he was away on missions that she was so damn comfortable, but every single iota of reason he thought he had disappeared as soon as he saw her.

The gods had _really_ rolled their sleeves up during her conception. Alabaster skin, silken hair, and a dash of whatever poison they used for gorgeous people. Wait, no, they must've poured the whole damn bottle in.

Her looks were that devastating.

Sasuke could give reason after reason for why he'd never taken the time to sit back and properly scrutinize her for all that she was; even after Itachi had announced their engagement to the clan. From her seemingly unshakable love for Naruto (gone now, with Itachi in the picture), to their shared talent of somehow never winding up in each other's company, despite being from the same generation. It was only when Itachi took an interest in her that he actually started seeing her more often, but even then, they were hardly ever alone.

For the most part, however, it was due to the fact that his eyes always zeroed in on her ratty attire.

What self-respecting heiress wore something so obviously... _cheap_?

It wasn't as if the Hyuga were skint. Even her little sister with her upbeat attitude and tendency to get herself dirty from climbing trees wore silken kimonos. Which, even from afar, Sasuke could tell cost a month's worth of wages for the average Chuunin. Frankly, he was surprised the Hyuga let their heiress walk around in some oversized jacket in the first place. The thing was so old that the cloth on her elbows had begun to thread—he would know. He'd stared intensely at it after all, while silently judging his big brother for going for such a frumpy wife when he could've had anybody. He figured it was her personality that snagged him in the end.

But that _clearly_ wasn't the case. Not entirely anyway.

 _That sly bastard,_ he thought.

He didn't blame her clansmen for worrying about her anymore. Hell, he didn't blame Itachi for always insisting she wear an overcoat when going outside.

Because...

 _Ninja gods above,_ Sasuke thought, gulping audibly. _No wonder Itachi's interested._

Her body was ridiculous.

And she was in his bed of all places. Snuggled against air and donning a nightgown so thin that he could see every curve. From the swell of her breasts to the dip of her waist. He even caught a hint of red peeking out from where the expensive satin had hiked up, giving him a tantalizing view of her thighs.

The nightgown certainly wasn't meant to be inviting. He knew that simply because of how plain it was. No lace. No see through spots. No downward dips. It was full coverage... or it should've been. Because it was doing an astoundingly _poor_ job of providing any sort of modesty in the face of Hinata's incredible... assets.

Sasuke swallowed a groan. His pants tightened to an uncomfortable degree.

Would Itachi kill him if he touched her? Probably. But maybe he'd forgive him if it was just a strand of her hair? He was his little brother after all. His foolish, foolish little brother. And who could blame him? Everything about her looked so smooth. He just wanted to feel those long tresses glide between his fingertips for a mome—

"You're back."

Sasuke jumped at the familiar voice. He whirled around to find his older brother leaning against his doorway, arms crossed and one eyebrow raised in question. Itachi looked much too ordinary for the situation, dressed in nondescript pants and a cotton shirt.

Still... Sasuke had never seen him look so unamused.

He swallowed again, except this time, in fear. His hard on immediately wilted at the sight of him. Sasuke looked down at the ground, willing his face to return to the cool mask all Uchiha perfected in their youth. It took a moment, but somehow, he got his features to obey.

"What were you doing?" Itachi went on.

And then his face twisted all over again.

Sasuke couldn't help but feel like the small child he once was, cornered by his brother and repentant for something he didn't want to admit to. The last time he'd felt like this, he was six years old and he'd just broken his beloved brother's favorite mug in his attempt to reach it from the tall cupboard he usually kept it in.

But this was different. Way different. He had to choose—either own up to the fact that he was about to touch his brother's fiancé or lie through his teeth to a man that had risen to ANBU Captain at the tender age of thirteen.

The answer was obvious.

"I was going to wake her," Sasuke lied, looking his brother right in the eye, as if daring him to refute his words. Forget that he was internally flinching from this sorry excuse of a stare down. This was life or death! He fucking chose life.

If it was pity for how ragged he looked from his mission or just plain luck that Itachi was in no mood to call him out on his raging hormones, Sasuke didn't know, but he let out a slow, controlled breath of relief when Itachi let the matter drop.

"Hinata came over at mother's insistence," Itachi explained. "She wanted to have Hinata try on her old kimonos, seeing as how she can't force you to wear them anymore." He paused just long enough to take in Sasuke's glare. "They prepared dinner afterwards. By the time we finished, it was already too late to send her home."

 _Please,_ Sasuke thought, _they're ninjas! It's never too late to send anybody home, especially since Hinata would be accompanied by—_

"Why is she in my room though?" Sasuke quickly asked when he realized that Itachi was expecting an answer.

"Father insisted we sleep in separate rooms. He wants no children conceived before marriage. It would bring dishonor to both clans."

Itachi was insane if he wasn't sleeping with her yet. And if he claimed he wasn't, then he was a dirty liar.

"Wait. What are you still doing awake?"

"I heard you come in."

Because of course he did. And of course he just had to get up and ruin—

"So, where am I supposed to sleep?" Sasuke asked, turning to sneak one last glance at her under the ruse of looking forlornly at his bed.

The action didn't go unnoticed, if Itachi's narrowing eyes were anything to go by.

"Tsukuyomi," came the merciless response, "if you keep that up."

"... Right."

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 _A/N: This was fun. I'll probably write a continuation of this one in the future when I feel like it, haha. Sorry for OOC-ness on Sasuke's part, but it's a non-massacre AU, so expect some changes to his personality._


	5. Nightie (Part 2) - Kimono Edition

_Disclaimer: I don't own Naruto._

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 _ **Continuation of Chapter 4 - Nightie**_

 ** _Kimono Edition. Hinata's POV._**

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Itachi was keeping her away from his brother.

The realization stumped her.

It was done so subtly, too. A hand on the small of her back to guide her down a different path, a nudge here, a tilt of his head there, a brief whisper in her ear to remind her of something she'd brought up weeks prior in mindless passing or to tell her that he wanted to stop by somewhere. Nothing he didn't do before. Only this time, the slight smile on his face was tight. As if forced out of him.

Itachi was the perfect ninja, and in turn, the perfect actor–when he needed to be. So, if something was disturbing enough to make his actions seem forced, especially around her, then of course she'd worry. Truthfully, Hinata had attributed it to herself at first. Was he exasperated by something she was doing? The insecurity died a quick death after a talk with Shino, who reasoned that if he was bothered by something she was doing, Itachi would be blunt enough to say so. Her betrothed was polite, but that didn't mean he minced words. He was still an Uchiha after all.

Hinata pinned it on exhaustion next. Because the deep lines on his face seemed to become more pronounced whenever he came home to her after a long mission.

 _Is he pushing himself to go out with me?_

Kiba called her crazy for even thinking such a thing. But it didn't help that when she confronted Itachi about it, he never denied anything. Merely nodded vaguely or gave her amused hums. So, at her insistence, they'd begun staying in more often. Hinata didn't mind. Flitting about the Hyuga grounds with him there made even the normal things more interesting.

But strangely enough, she wouldn't have known the real reason for his actions if she had actually used to spend time with his little brother. Because the day it dawned upon her was during her monthly dinners at the Uchiha household. Sasuke, having claimed himself too busy to attend for the last six months suddenly– _wasn't_.

She helped Mikoto cook as per usual, and Sasuke had actually made an effort to talk to her by asking her why–not when or from who–she learned and warning her not to poison him. Hinata had been delighted by his interest... until Itachi said his little brother's name in a voice that brooked no barter.

Sasuke stiffened, before slinking away to another part of the house.

It had become something of a ritual for Itachi to sit on the verandah just a few paces away from the kitchen; which they kept open when cooking to prevent the scent from lingering in the house. He drank tea with a book in his hand, while watching Hinata and his mother decide what to make from the corner of his eye. He was usually there to relax. But the look in his eye seemed more protective that night.

Nevertheless, dinner had been a pleasant affair. They weren't an overly loud bunch, and though they each had their own flaring tempers, their everyday temperaments were calm. Tranquil, even.

Hinata loved it.

But then Mikoto had brought up the topic of a casual kimono for her to wear around the house, and Sasuke had choked on his food.

The glare Itachi sent him then was dark enough to crack glass.

Hinata startled at the sight, caught between wanting to ask Itachi what was wrong and wanting to ask Sasuke if he was alright.

But Mikoto had ignored her two sons, so Hinata had opted to as well. She informed her that the Hyuga's tailor had fallen ill, so being the wonderful, eager in-law with no daughters that she was, Mikoto had directed her to her favorite and demanded she get fitted for a few.

Itachi volunteered to take her because his input on their style was apparently important. A date was set. And Hinata couldn't be happier.

The shop, itself, was a quaint place. Made for only one client at a time, if the circular platform on the side of the room surrounded by mirrors was anything to go by. That kind of focused attention should've been daunting, but having had tailors prodding her all her life, it wasn't anything new. Rather, she liked that the owner was so invested in every client.

"You're too kind," Itachi told her. "If not for the Uchiha clan, they would've gone out of business ages ago."

Garish fabrics hung from the walls, attached by hooks made of pristine steel that her sensitive nose could smell, despite how high up they were. The floorboards below carried marks of age in the form of washed-out stains and old spots. Though it wasn't enough to seem off-putting. There were even seats for accompanying family and friends littered about.

Overall, Hinata could tell that part of it was specifically designed to be both cozy and distracting enough for a man to not feel annoyed if forced to stay for an extended period of time.

But then Sasuke had shown up, as she stood on the platform in a rich blue summer kimono that didn't quite provide the coverage it should in the front, and suddenly the shop felt suffocating with the two brothers inside.

Two pairs of eyes flashed red.

"Sasuke," Itachi acknowledged. Cold, even for him. "What are you doing here?"

The younger Uchiha shrugged. "Mom asked me to drop by and tell you two to come see her after you were done."

"Is that all?"

Sasuke hesitated, glancing at her from the corner of his eye, before nodding.

Not wanting to be rude, Hinata fully turned to address him. "Thank you for coming all the way here, Sasuke," she said with a smile. "I appreciate it."

What she didn't expect was the sprinkle of color to grace his cheeks. His expression was so stony and looked so much like Itachi's when he was embarrassed and didn't want to show it that Hinata couldn't quite contain her giggle.

 _Cute_ , she thought.

"Sasuke," Itachi suddenly called. His voice was so guttural that she swore the room's temperature dropped a few degrees. "Tell mother that we'll return before dinner."

It wasn't a request.

And they all knew it.

Still stone faced, Sasuke turned. "Alright."

The door closed softly behind him.

"Are you two fighting?" Hinata asked immediately.

"He's just," Itachi paused to find the words, "realizing some things. A bit late, however. Though I would've preferred it if he'd never found out at all because now I need to set boundaries."

She didn't really understand, but if they were at least trying to work it out, then she wouldn't press him.

Hinata smiled when he stepped up on the platform with her. One of his hands came up to her hips, travelling up and stopping at her waist. As the other fiddled with the fabric just above where her valley began; the loose obi and more modern style of the outfit offered him a nice view.

His sharingan activated for an instant, committing her to memory.

"You're beautiful," he complimented, cupping her face, and delighting at how quickly her cheeks colored. "But the collar is a bit too low, don't you think?"

She gaped.

He was the one that picked it out!

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 _A/N: Please Review._


	6. Captured

_Disclaimer: I don't own Naruto._

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 _ **Request by: Miwa (Captured Hinata. Angry Itachi.)**_

 _ **Captor's POV.**_

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He was going to die.

He knew it as soon as his subordinates brought her in. A woman. Long eyelashes. Elegant eyebrows. Purple hair dark enough to seem black in the sparse light of their hideout. The shade of her skin counted amongst the palest he'd ever seen, and it was unblemished, making it seem even more so. She was obviously well taken care of. The calluses on her hands, however, gave her profession away. They weren't just on the pads of her fingers or certain parts of her palm, but they stretched everywhere, even encompassing her wrist.

Those were taijutsu calluses.

You didn't get those unless you spent hundreds of hours smashing hardwood training dummies. Even then, if you didn't do so regularly, they'd disappear.

She had the distinct features of a Hyuga. He opened her eyes just in case.

He would've left his subordinates, along with the girl alone. He didn't need useless Byakugan. Neither did he need one of Konoha's top clans chasing after him. They could still put the girl back in the forest. Surely, once she returned to Konoha and they realized she wasn't harmed in any way, they'd leave him be. _Maybe_ they'd send a tracking team to investigate. Not like they'd know it was him though. And most wouldn't care about some nameless man holed up in the area anyway. Especially when they saw that he really didn't have anything to hide in his humble, little dwelling.

He bought and sold exotic animals. Yes, some were illegal. But they wouldn't know that. Besides, they weren't there to put a stop to his operation anyway.

Ninjas sent to investigate were much easier to deal with than ninjas out for blood.

But when his hands trailed upwards, brushing her hair away from her forehead to inspect the caged bird seal emblazoned upon all of the Hyuga clan's branch members, he stilled.

"Bitch took out a dozen of our men," his lackey sneered, rubbing his side. From the way he was limping, it was clear that she'd broken something. Likely a rib. "I thought you said she wasn't a ninja."

"That's because she isn't," he whispered, his hands shaking.

"Then that's one hell of a civilian. But she's just like you described. Long black hair. Short. With an exotic bird on her shoulder. Midnight black, boss. Just like you said. The fucking thing got away while I wasn't looking though, but I brought her back just in case. I assume she has some way of calling the thing. I searched her, but she didn't have any kind of whistle on her. Must be something she does herself."

God, he wanted to scream.

How is it that he knew more about the ninja world than an _actual_ ninja? This wasn't some no name civilian. Sure, she was dressed like one and she had no weapon pouches on her—was she on holiday?—but her eyes alone were proof of her status. He wondered for a moment if his lackey had really gone rogue or if his village had just dropped him from their roster out of sheer incompetence. If it was the former, then the only way he could've survived this long was if his village didn't care enough to off him.

"Why are you looking at me like that?" the man went on. "Look, I'm sorry it took a while and that I didn't get the actual bird you wanted, okay? She put up a crazy fight, but she's here now. We just need to wake her."

Oh, they would do nothing of the sort.

"You fucking idiot!" he suddenly roared. "Do you have any idea who this is?"

The man's eyes widened. His mouth was sealed shut at his boss' sudden fury.

"This is a Hyuga! Not just any Hyuga either. A fucking member of the main branch!"

"Wh—which daughter?" he asked, nervous.

As far as either of them knew, there were only two women in the main branch. The head's two daughters. The elder had given up her title as heiress when she married outside of her clan in a wedding that sent the entire world abuzz, because not only did one of the strongest ninjas in the world finally choose a wife, but the whole affair had no political strings attached. Sure, it was the joining of two powerful clans, but the marriage itself wasn't out of obligation.

The younger sister, while still a Chunin, was already considered a fierce warrior in her generation. She could bring a grown man to his knees. Didn't his subordinate say that the woman before him had taken a dozen of his hired ninjas out? So, which daughter was she?

Well, not like it mattered now.

He was fucking screwed.

"You said she had a black bird accompanying her," he said, swallowing, trying to retain some semblance of calm. "Was it a... crow?"

Immediately catching on, the man stumbled back. "I—I didn't know!" he roared, defending himself, as if he was the one that he should dread. Barely a minute after his realization, and already, the fear was making him delirious. "She doesn't even look like a ninja, let alone a Hyuga heiress! Look at her clothes!" he pointed, and his boss immediately did so. Plain black pants and a black shirt. Navy blue sandals. Standard clothes for an off duty ninja. That was all well and good, but it was also... standard Uchiha clothing.

"No clan markers, see?!" His subordinate went on. "Look, maybe we can just put her back! High tail it out of here. No one needs to kno—"

The man stopped mid-sentence. He was about to ask what was wrong, but stilled when he saw how wide the man's eyes were. And before he knew what was happening, he was keeled over, on his knees and dry heaving.

Something black fell from his mouth with each cough.

Upon closer inspection, he realized that they were feathers.

Before he could even register that he needed to run away—far and fast—a deafening squawk emerged from the man's mouth. And then something was coming out. A mass of black arose, beak first. It opened so wide that it stretched the man's lips, tearing them, and painting the ground a bloody red. His screams were drowned mid-way, caught in his throat, and ending in muffled pleas for help. Tears fell down his cheeks. The talons that soon followed left scratches all along his face, further marring it and ensuring his blindness.

 _Did he..._ he thought, horrified, _did he just cough out a live bird?!_

The scent of copper was so strong, he could taste it.

Once the bird fully emerged, it began picking at his body. Tearing into it with a foreign savagery that he'd never before associated with such an elegant creature. If his subordinate was still alive, then that face he carried would surely become a living example of why you didn't mess with—

He stumbled back in a mixture of shock and disgust. The gravity of his situation finally dawning upon him. He reached for purchase against the table to his side. He needed to get away. Run past the bird while it was distracted and run as far as he could go. He didn't want to capture her in the first place. Surely, he'd be shown mercy, seeing as how he never intended to actually harm the woman.

He was an animal dealer! Not a fucking slave trader or enemy ninja. Hell, he even made sure to sell the animals to wealthy homes where he knew they'd be taken care of. Oh, one could argue that he took them out of their environment, but that wasn't enough to warrant—

He didn't fucking _deserve_ to die like this.

His head snapped to the slumbering woman in the corner of the room when he saw a figure dressed head to toe in black. Tall and broad at the shoulders. He looked over her for injuries. Like a medic sent to the frontlines, sent to carefully assess someone with all the gentleness and care a person could. He wore the exact same clothes as the Hyuga. Judging from how fast he'd gotten here, he was probably waiting for her somewhere.

It was then the dealer noticed the Uchiha symbol proudly emblazoned on the back of his shirt, mocking him. As if he needed further proof of who he was. The fan was split in half by a short sword that he just knew had an edge sharp enough to slice through bone.

He twisted away, stumbling over his own two feet, as if pulled down by a spiral of heavier air. He ended up butt first on the floor, his palms on the ground behind him, still reeling back, like the limbs could escape on their own.

The man was that terrifying.

In an instant, the intruder was crouched before him, elbows on his knees. Face devoid of emotion.

His eyes spun red.

For an insane instant, he saw how incredibly beautiful the man was. Long hair tied in a low ponytail. Straight enough to make any woman jealous. He had a chiseled jaw and aristocratic cheeks. Just as regal as his wife in the far corner, now wrapped in a cloak with a murder of crows surrounding her.

He couldn't move.

A trail of blood dribbled down from the man's eye.

"I'm going to burn you alive," the ninja said, low and casual with power. "And you're going to die screaming."

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 _A/N: Where are the rest of the requests at? XD I do read them, guys! I'm combing through, trying to find interesting ones to quickly write out. If you aren't requesting as an Anon, and your request is accepted, I usually send a PM saying I'm doing it._

 _ **To Miwa**_ _: Fucking hell, woman (I'm assuming you're a woman), this was a good prompt. I went over my 1k word limit for this short when I told myself I'd do no such thing. I love fleshing out emotions like fear. God, I haven't enjoyed writing so much since I finished my second manuscript. And sorry, I know you said mission gone wrong in your request, but this idea was what sprung up instead. Nevertheless, I hope you enjoyed it._

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 _Please review._


	7. First Meeting

_Disclaimer: I don't own Naruto._

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 _ **Request by: Daisy Field (How ItaHina met)**_

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Itachi loved watching Hinata cook.

The way she'd flit around the sterile tiles of his kitchen, faded red apron on and her hair tied into a high ponytail, exposing an elegant neck that he'd had the pleasure of ravishing the night before. He made a mental note to buy something more suitable for her to wear. Itachi rarely cooked, and the scant few times he did, he never bothered with an apron. Eggs and riceballs hardly required one. In fact, the ratty thing was only there at his mother's insistence. Itachi thought it was just an excuse for her to come over and cook more often, but of course he'd never say that out loud.

Still, he couldn't deny that the sight of his girlfriend in one stirred heat in his gut.

He leaned on the doorway, having just emerged from a shower. Shirtless with a towel around his neck, the menial task of drying his hair forgotten in the face of her culinary... prowess? No, that didn't sound right. But the word skills seemed too ordinary in comparison.

Itachi watched as she curved upward to grab plates and bent down for pans. Any other day, he would've entered, made his presence known by enveloping her in his arms, but simply watching her from afar held a different kind of pleasure—one that he found preferable this morning. His eyes lingered on her hips when she moved in time to the tune she was humming. It was a familiar one, he noted. Though not enough for him to distinctly recall how it went.

She looked good there.

As if she belonged. As if she had every right to look so utterly confident in his kitchen—technically, she did. But she wasn't his wife. Not yet.

Soon though.

Once her father conceded to his daughter's wishes and his own loosened his suffocating grip around his collar. But that was a thought for another day, in a different time when she wasn't in his kitchen and the air between them wasn't so comfortable.

He'd admitted to her, once, when they were out roaming the bustling streets of Konoha and a tea shop had caught both of their gazes, that it was her cooking that had attracted him to her in the first place. That day, when he'd gone to her family home for a marriage meeting—more for formality than actual interest, he was required to meet with many young women of courting age; and not meeting Hinata, who came from a family as prominent as the Hyuga, would be considered an insult—he had found her in the kitchen.

The Hyuga heiress... cooking of all things.

Something messy, too, judging by the streak of flour across her cheek. He could smell cinnamon in the air. Too much for her not to have been using it.

He knew who she was based from the pictures he'd been given. He even knew her personality based on the dozens of stories his little brother's best friend had to say about her. An uncomfortable number of them involved fainting. But none of that prepared him for the opalescent eyes that looked up at him, surprised, confused, and then embarrassed. Emotions flitted across her face. So quick that he wondered how she was even a ninja with eyes as easily readable as hers.

But then the moment passed. A practiced smile slipped on her face at the same time as her honest blush. Hinata had bowed politely to him, before he could even think about doing the same. Her bow was much lower than his own, well-mannered with none of the same hubris that kept most Hyuga from bending at the waist. In the first place, a heiress should never bow that low to anyone. But... he supposed he was an exception.

Only the ignorant and the overconfident didn't acknowledge Uchiha Itachi's existence. Neither lived very long to regret it.

She'd spoken softly to him afterwards. A diplomatic greeting that his trained ears almost failed to catch, followed by an apology for her appearance. Her remorse almost made him miss her invitation to join her. Almost.

Hinata had looked him in the eyes for the briefest of moments, waiting for his answer. He'd shaken his head—something he regretted to this day—and told her that he'd wait with her father in the formal meeting room.

She didn't touch him.

Didn't even step forward in an attempt to stop him from leaving.

Hinata just bowed her head once more in acceptance, waiting for him to leave the room, before slipping out herself to change. Itachi would've thought her unshakable, had he not lingered around the corner to watch the way she practically stumbled over her own two feet in a mad dash to get to her room to change. Her younger sister's laughter echoed throughout the halls.

... He didn't hate it.

Itachi smiled inwardly.

She had worn a red apron then, too. Except much finer and much, much smaller.

And before he knew it, his thoughts were broken by Hinata walking over to him with a disapproving look on her face and in her eyes. Her lower lip slightly jutted down out of habit.

"Itachi," she called, simultaneously surprised and concerned. Her black plastic spatula forgotten on a nearby plate.

He raised an eyebrow.

"You can't walk around like this," she scolded, grabbing the towel around his shoulders and standing on her tip toes in an attempt to dry his hair. He bent down obediently to allow her free reign. "It's snowing outside, and you don't have a heater right now. What are you going to do if you catch a cold?"

Itachi didn't answer, merely continued to observe the changes between the woman that now stood before him and the one he'd met all those years ago. She'd clearly gotten bolder after all the time they'd spent together.

He didn't hate that either.

"Hinata," he whispered, dropping his voice in a way that he knew she liked. Itachi kissed her temple, graceless. Conflicted. Anything to distract him from that ardent look in her eye. It was enough to make him feel unworthy.

"Y—Yes?"

Ah, there was that stutter.

He saw more than felt her shoulders tense. That wouldn't do. Still, it gave him pleasure to know that even after all this time she still shuddered in delight at his presence.

She was so...

"What are you making?" he asked, purposely distracting her from his fingers playing with the apron's tight knot around her waist.

"Hmm?" she paused, his words taking a moment to register. As soon as they did, her eyes lit up in glee. "Panca—"

He muffled her voice with a kiss.

Itachi loved watching Hinata cook... or rather, he loved her in red.

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 _A/N: A flashback type of chapter seemed more interesting for this particular request._ _Please Review._


	8. First Date

_Disclaimer: I don't own Naruto._

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 _ **Request by: Guest (First Date)**_

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Itachi sat at the corner booth of a modern tea house. He usually preferred traditional ones where he'd sit formally on his knees like he did at home. They were usually quieter; the staff, older and intelligent enough to gauge that he wanted to be left alone, so they'd send men to serve him instead. When people switched around staff to please customers, he knew he'd found a place to empty his savings in.

And the only reason he was sitting in such a modern place was because of the spotty weather. Their shop was in a prime location, somehow being the exact same distance between the Uchiha, Hyuga, and Nara districts. Three great clans that could stop by whenever they didn't want to walk too far to grab a light snack. It didn't seem like a place the Uchiha or Hyuga would frequent often though, more pompous as they were.

Their tea wasn't the greatest he'd come across, neither were their sweets, but he favored it over others because of the amount of privacy between tables. The walls surrounding each table were high and there was a set of double hanging half-doors that kept prying eyes away, but allowed just enough visibility for the staff to see a raised hand.

Itachi sat there, ten minutes early and watching his too bitter tea grow cold.

He was dressed in dark pants and an even darker shirt. Cotton. Plain. The Uchiha crest stitched on the back. And though it wasn't old and worn, it wasn't exactly new either. He distinctly recalled training in these very same clothes last week because the rain had been heavy, the winds cold... and Shisui had stumbled across him asking what in the world he was doing asking Hyuga Hiashi for permission to take his daughter out on a date.

Itachi wasn't a professional killer or born and bred clan heir in just name though. He made sure to make up some flimsy excuse about how his parents were pleading with him to at least take one woman out, so he'd at least have a proper reason to disregard all of the marriage proposals he'd been receiving since he was fourteen. If they heard he was... distracted by a woman from a clan as distinguished as the Hyuga, they'd leave him alone. For a few months anyway. But that was all he'd need to finally catch up on all of the proposals and send them proper rejections.

All lies of course. Well, except the final bit.

He really _was_ behind on formal rejection letters, and the families were no doubt growing weary of his stalled reply. Besides, he knew Hiashi wouldn't refuse because his daughter had been receiving the exact same offers and that he, himself, was having trouble keeping up with them. His mother had mentioned it once before in passing, and Itachi was nothing, if not attentive.

So, he'd asked for a date.

With his perfect excuse in place, there was no way anyone would question his motives. Except Shisui. But of course _he_ didn't buy it. They were umbilically attached. His cousin knew him like the kunai in his pouches. But it wasn't his cousin he needed to convince—it was everyone else. And truthfully, he was quite proud of the meager excuse he'd quickly thought up. It was so effective that even if the little Hyuga woman didn't ignite the small interest she'd started when he found her cooking in the kitchens like a common servant, then he could still use the date as a reason to stop the advances of some of the... bolder noblewomen he was forced to attend gatherings with.

Thinking of his date, where in the world was she?

Itachi looked out the window to his left, seeing clouds heavy with rain. It was still five minutes early, but he hoped she'd come soon or else she'd be caught in the downpour. He wondered for a moment if he should open the doors that blocked him from the clatter of the other customers, but then thought better of it. He didn't want to send the women in the shop into a frenzy, and Hinata had the byakugan. She could find him.

He chanced another glance out the window.

Perhaps he should've waited for her outside?

Just as he was thinking it, he felt the flicker of her chakra. It was shy and nervous in her veins, though there it had an unbendable center. He knew the moment she activated her byakugan to find him because there was a spike in the air, before he felt the distinct feeling of eyes sliding over his face and—

Nowhere else. Strangely enough.

He appreciated that.

Itachi heard a soft knock on the light wooden half-door. She was so short, he could just barely see the top of her head, but he did have a clear view of her plain sandals and the hem of a long, midnight-blue kimono.

"Uchiha-sama," she called in a soft voice.

He waited for her to come in, but when a moment passed, and he realized she was waiting for permission, he wanted to kick himself. He settled for pinching his forearm instead. If he was going to do this, he needed to get his head in the game because _of course_ she'd wait for his go-ahead. Hyuga women were docile, polite, bred to be the perfect wives—when not on the battlefield anyway.

"Come in," he said.

She did so shyly, head slightly bowed with a noticeable blush on her cheeks. Her hands were folded in front of her. As she gave him a proper bow. Never once meeting his eyes. Not even when he indicated for her to have a seat across from him.

Most women would've been bouncing in glee right about now.

She looked like she wanted to leave.

And he knew exactly why as soon as she stepped in. Hinata was overdressed. Her kimono was long and modestly closed to hide the immense cleavage underneath, yet all it seemed to do was make it pop out more. In fact, his eyes practically zeroed in on the area. There was something about not being able to see anything that made it all the more distracting. Her black obi was tied in such a meticulous manner that he wondered if she had had a servant help her or if she'd done it herself. She looked like the type to do things on her own.

As soon as she sat down, Itachi could see the sharp contrast between average and— _Hyuga._ She, as a whole, looked too expensive for the threadbare cushions. Despite the fact that there were no blinding ornaments in her hair or layers of heavy makeup across her face.

Absently, he noticed that her hair was done in an up-do that though messy, made her look all the more attractive. It looked... effortless. As if she'd put it up after a moment's deliberation. Had she really not chosen to properly dress up for him?

 _No,_ he thought, answering himself. Classy, but natural, was what he assumed whoever had dressed her was going for. And they succeeded. Tremendously.

Because never in his life had he so blatantly checked out a woman—or had gotten hung up on clothes for that matter.

"You wore a kimono," he said, testing the waters. Plain as it was, it looked good on her. And he made sure to tell her so. "It's beautiful."

"O—Oh," she gasped. "Thank you. It belonged to my mother."

 _A gentle, but unyielding woman_. _A true Hyuga matriarch,_ he recalled, trying to place her face. He'd seen her many times during clan gatherings before she passed, though it was hard for him to distinctly recall her features. He just knew that she was... _kind. To everyone_.

"Father said we were to meet at a teahouse, so I thought..." she trailed off, looking down dejectedly.

Ah.

Well, he _was_ an Uchiha. And she was a Hyuga. Neither families were deprived.

Yet he'd taken her to...

He downed his cold tea to hide the traitorous blush on his cheeks. It was hardly noticeable. But he wasn't going to take any chances with a woman that was specifically brought up to be perceptive.

Hyuga Hiashi was going to kill him. Shisui was going to laugh until he cried. His mother was going to make him sit through an hour long lecture because—

He hadn't been taking this seriously.

But of course _she_ had. Even though her father must've told her the reason he asked her out in the first place. Polite as she was, he could already tell by the look in her eye that she must've thought they at least had to make it look convincing. Now, he looked like he was just playing her, taking her around common places he'd never usually visit as if he didn't want to be seen with her. Like a mistress that noblemen only brought to second-rate shops that allowed a small amount of privacy, but not enough for wandering eyes to start up gossip.

 _I'm overthinking this,_ he mentally chided.

"The weather was spotty," he said, trying to keep his tone even instead of defensive. "This was close to both our districts."

Itachi inwardly flinched at his own words, waiting for what he knew was about to come. The infamous ' _promise to make it up to me next week_ ,' or the usual, ' _let's go somewhere after the rain stops_.' But when all he got was an appreciative hum and a nod, his eyes widened in delighted surprise, before falling in what felt almost like... disappointment?

"That was very generous of you, Uchiha-sama," she said in that diplomatic voice of hers. "I—I should've confirmed with you. So, I could've worn something more," she glanced at his clothes, "appropriate."

Uchiha Itachi had never felt shabby before.

But with the Hyuga heiress seated in such an expensive looking kimono with her silken hair and light perfume before him, he felt like it. His clothes weren't bad. He knew they looked absolutely sinful on him—as possibly everything did—because various women had turned their heads as he travelled the short distance here. Besides, they blended well with their surroundings.

And that was the problem, wasn't it?

He felt like a commoner with a pretty face trying to woo a woman far above his station. Really though, it was anything but.

"I'll take you somewhere better next time," he promised because his pride had been inadvertently hurt and was now wailing in a corner, screaming at him to get rid of these feelings of inadequacy crowding his head.

"No," she said loudly, a crimson blush spreading over her cheeks and down her neck. His eyes followed it down, but they were blocked by the hem of her kimono. How far did it go? "I—I mean... you don't have to. I'm sure you have b—better things to occupy your time with, Uchiha-sama."

That was, perhaps, the politest rejection he'd ever received.

Also, the first.

"Is that a no?"

Her eyes widened. She was gripping the corner of the table so tightly her knuckles had gone completely white. "I—I," she breathed, "I know that we're both here today for politics' sake, a—and I'm very sorry that you're in such a situation where you need to take me out, s—so there's really no need to prolong this. Once, I believe, is enough to make others s—stop."

She wasn't answering him... not really.

He sighed.

"Is that a no, Hyuga," he paused, then tacked on, "—san?"

She made a cute sound, before her hands covered her face, not wanting to give him a proper rejection. It was no wonder her father handled them. If they ever had children, he could already see what they'd be like. A daughter that would smile bashfully at strangers before burying her head in her mother's leg; a son, too much like him, but with a gentler mouth that would no doubt make women of all ages swoon. They'd be strong, their blood guaranteed it. Beautiful, too. And very—

Why was he thinking about children?

"It is," she suddenly said, startling him out of his reverie. "I—I'm very sorry, but I just don't think it's necessary to go out of your way to—"

"It's no trouble at all. I _want_ to take you somewhere better than," he gestured around them, "this. Not just for your sake, Hyuga-san, but mine as well. I can't let you leave today thinking that this was the best the Uchiha clan could do. I can't let _others_ see us leave today with the thought that I brought you here because of a lack of interest. We're supposed to make this convincing. I'm in standard training clothes and you—"

"I—It looks very good on you though, Uchiha-sama," she mumbled, interrupting his excuses.

A profound silence washed over them.

The blush on her cheeks was spreading downwards again. He could feel his own heat up, but he knew for a fact that it was nothing like hers.

"D—Did you order already, Uchiha-sama?" she asked, distractedly grabbing a sticky menu. That, too, looked shabby in her delicate hands. "I—I remember hearing from my friend, Shikamaru-kun, that the dango here were delicious."

"Itachi," he suddenly said. "Call me Itachi."

She made a strangled noise that he smirked at. That unholy blush was still on her cheeks.

"Itachi..." she tried it on her tongue, before, "—san?"

He shrugged his agreement.

"Then you can call me Hinata as well!" she went on, visibly pleased that she hadn't insulted him with her refusal, and the fact that she had avoided his question in the most reserved, innocently distracting way possible.

Well, no matter.

It was about to rain. He could feel it in his bones. They'd be here for a good, long while. Ending the date too soon might be seen as an insult, so he knew her father wouldn't be expecting her back for another few hours.

He'd get her to agree to another date before then.

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 _A/N: Everyone's requests are making me go over my 1k word limit. Mostly because I don't want to write something shitty when I know I can make it better, but damn. These are supposed to be shorts! XD_ _ **I've gone through the requests, and while I'm still open to them, expect it not to be put up immediately because I'm still catching up with the ones I found interesting.**_

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 _._

 _Please Review._


	9. Make Up Date

_Disclaimer: I don't own Naruto._

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 _ **Continuation of Chapter 8: First Date**_

 _ **Request by: Splaaash-attack (Itachi overdoing it on the makeup date).**_

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It was perfect.

From the color of the cushions that sat innocently before the cherry wooden low table to the birds chirping happily outside in the sunny afternoon. Even the tea set was a sight. Olive green with white petals hand painted on it by some long dead artist he didn't bother learning the name of. It was usually only kept on display, and he'd paid a tiny fortune to actually use it, but he wasn't about to let something like money hold him back. Not one bit. The Uchiha coffers were deep—and his father would have his head speared on a blunt stick outside the Uchiha gates if he didn't at least flaunt that.

Itachi had planned everything, even to where she'd accidentally trip and fall in his arms on the way inside of the spacious room he'd reserved. Comprised of no less than 24 tatami, _thank you very much_. All new and very posh. Lavender-scented incense burned across the room, pleasing anyone's senses. Even the sliding doors were decorated. They sported golden dragons that chased clouds all across the room.

He went above and beyond the call of duty to impress this woman. He had even worn formal attire, despite how stiff he felt.

It had taken three days of pulling rank and calling-in favors, but he needed to mend his wounded pride at their failure of a first date, so as to finally get the woman out of his head. Because surely, once he did that, then he could have some peace of mind.

Itachi had tried too hard and pulled out too many moves to get her to agree to a second date. She was _so_ skilled at dodging questions that he wondered if the bumbling heiress act was all a front. But that blush didn't lie. She was perceptive—he knew that already. And combined with her personality, she used it to politely steer conversations into all kinds of different directions. Until even he was left impressed once the rain stopped and she stood to go.

In the end, he had just bluntly told her to go out with him again in that courteous, threatening voice of his he knew no one could refuse. It had been a statement posed as a question. And she had acquiesced in the mousiest way possible, with her head bowed in panic and her hands fumbling to retain some semblance of calm; even then, not wanting to insult him.

He at least remembered to say thank you for her time.

But when he inadvertently learned from his complaining little brother that she was infatuated with his loud and bright, _overly bright,_ best friend, well... suffice to say, his ego was bruised. Considerably.

He was going to show her the time of her life in a world only he could provide. To the point where she'd forget all about any awkward fancies and clan-less men she'd ever thought of before him, until only he was left—

No.

This was to patch his pride and get Shishui and his mother off his back, before word reached their fathers about where he'd first taken her. It was damage control. Nothing more.

He refused to admit that she had... sparked his interest. Somewhat.

First, he needed to see how she'd act in the face of him going all out.

"Uchiha-sama," a man called from beyond the door, "Your guest has arrived."

Taking a deep breath, he replied, "Send her in."

The door opened, and Itachi turned his head to see Hinata in a more refined kimono than the one she'd worn at their previous outing. This one was dark as well, but with a rich crimson obi. It was solid, save for the sprinkling of flowers littered at the bottom. She even had an ornament in her hair this time. A striking, ruby pin that he had no doubt cost an arm and a leg.

Seemed the Hyuga wanted to showcase their wealth as well.

Not that he minded.

She took small, tentative steps inside. Her hands were folded neatly in front of her, head bowed ever so slightly, as she took an inconspicuous glance around the room. She gasped at the sight, though she hid it well.

 _That's more like it,_ he thought. The surroundings definitely suited her better than the drab fades of old seats and un-sanded wood.

"Hinata," he called, purposely dropping the honorific, "Welcome."

She bowed low, before meeting his gaze. The smile she sent him was slight and dazzling.

"Thank you for inviting me, Itachi-san."

He gestured to the table with a hand, eyes never leaving her blushing form. And just like he planned, a step before she could seat herself, her socked feet lost balance on a marble that he threw and then hit with another to make the two ricochet off of each other and bounce out through an open window at the speed of light.

She fell forward, gasping.

He couldn't help but admire the way she did so. Her hands didn't flail, her legs didn't kick; instead she seemed to curl in on herself, her fingers moving upward to protect her eyes. But there was no need. All it took was a second, and he was by her side. Hand on the small of her back, the other on top of her stomach, just below her breasts.

"Are you alright?" he whispered in her ear, taking pleasure in the way she flushed crimson.

"F—Fine," she breathed out, trying to gather her wits. "Th—Thank you for catching me."

She smelt good, he noted, like vanilla and the incense currently burning across the room. He gave an approving hum, as he helped her down into her seat. Much to her absolute horror. Her hands gripped his, silently telling him that she was alright. Not that he heeded her plea to stop helping. This was part of his plan after all. Still, it was nice to see that she was uncomfortable with men touching her.

As he settled back into his own seat, he made sure to school his features into neutral. No need for her to see his self-satisfied smirk. That would just give them both trouble.

"Have you ever been here before?" he asked, leaning forward. The waiter wouldn't be coming in yet. He knew that for a fact, because he'd given the staff explicit instructions when to enter and leave, so he could time everything accordingly.

"I have," she said, calmer now that the table was once again between them. "Hanabi celebrated her birthday here two years ago. We had to reserve a back room because of how boisterous her friends are."

He liked her smile, he decided then.

"I found out about this place because of Sasuke," he told her. "A woman offered him the other ticket to the reservations she'd made months prior, believing he'd accept because of how renowned the place is. Instead of taking one, however, he took both and disappeared."

Hinata laughed. It wasn't a mouth wide open, throw your head back laugh like Shisui or dark, almost manic chuckles like Sasuke. But... feminine, for lack of a better word. Her entire face lit up with the sound, so much so that even her eyes sparkled in delight at his unexpected story.

Previous Kages help him.

He liked her laugh, too.

"Do you often spend time with Sasuke-kun?" she asked.

He filed away the casual honorific. They were from the same generation, so it would only be natural, but still...

"Not as often as I'd like," he said after a moment. "The ANBU keeps me busy, and Sasuke is always running off with his own team when I'm around."

"I see," she nodded, "Hanabi is the same. It's a little lonely, no?"

His eyes met hers. It was. Though he'd never admit that.

"What do you like to do?" he asked, changing the subject.

Reading the mood, Hinata quickly obliged. "I like to read books and care for the plants in the garden. I also make healing salves for the young children in the clan. Taijutsu is... difficult when you're first starting out. Their hands are always so full of blisters."

He nodded, watching her frown. She said each thing as an afterthought, coming back to it then looking him in the eye like she wasn't sure if that counted as proper answers.

"Is that all?"

"I..." she hesitated, wondering what else to say. "I cook sometimes when no one's in the kitchen. B—But you already know that. Not many in my family like sweets, so they can't stand the smell of the pastries I make."

"I like sweets," he hinted.

There was a moment of silence where he just waited for her to say what he wanted to hear. He was practically laying the invite out for her. But when she only nodded and smiled at him again like she'd found a comrade, he almost cracked the glass in his hand.

Would it kill her to ask him out? He would've classified this as an S-Class mission at this point.

"Would you make some for me?" he went on, amused by her sudden sputtering. "I haven't had homemade sweets in a long time. Do you make traditional or modern ones?"

"B—Both."

"Could I trouble you, then? If you're concerned about the kitchen, you can always come to my family home."

She was blushing so much. He accidentally let his amused smile break free.

Her mouth opened and closed. Twice. If it was to reject him once more, he didn't know. But the waiter would be coming in soon anyway. He knew she wouldn't be able to find her voice that quickly.

 _Three, two, o—_

There was a rasp on the door.

"Come in," he said, before she could answer. The door opened. He ignored it in favor of turning back to her. "What do you say, Hinata?"

She looked at the stoic faced waiter, then back at her present company.

Itachi knew he was being pushy. He'd never even intended to ask for another date—though he did make sure to think of at least _nine_ different plans to ensure he got one if he was still interested, and not even ten minutes in, he'd already utilized the first.

That couldn't be a good sign.

He also couldn't give a damn.

"If you're really okay with me being there, then..." she let the sentence hang.

Itachi made sure to look her right in the eyes, ignoring the uncomfortable waiter standing by the door.

"I like the thought of you in my home, Hinata."

He laughed, distinct and virile, when even the waiter blushed.

* * *

 _A/N: Itachi, you can have me._

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 _Please Review._


	10. Rouse

_Disclaimer: I don't own Naruto._

* * *

Itachi stirred just past midnight.

He'd always been a light sleeper. His eyes would snap open at the most subtle of movements or sounds. If a bird took off from a nearby tree, flapping its wings audibly, he'd wake. If Hinata rolled away from him in the middle of the night, he'd wake. If one of the wooden planks in the house creaked, again, he'd wake.

It was never a full awakening, but more a brief coming to awareness. A blinking of his eyes, a sigh from his lips, before he'd realize that there was no danger in the air, and he was free to return to the land of dreams. It was a good trait to have. Especially for a ninja. For a husband that simply wanted rest, however, there were more preferable sleeping habits.

But this time it was different.

Tonight, he awoke because his side was starting to go numb.

Itachi groaned slightly, turning to look at the cause of his discomfort. His wife slept, curled up beside him. Unaware of what she was doing. She didn't rouse like he did. But he attributed that to the fact that she simply felt secure in his presence because no ninja worth their grain of salt ever slept heavily. Not extremely anyway.

She trusted his ability to protect her—and that was that.

While a slumbering Hinata felt comfortable against him, it could get very tiring. Very quickly. She wasn't particularly heavy. Neither were the planes of her body as harsh or as protruding as his own, but after hours of her constant weight lying on top of him, even he reached his limit.

Itachi turned, arms circling her wide hips and carefully maneuvering her to turn with him, so that her back was half-pressed against his chest and half-pushed into the mattress. It couldn't be comfortable. He was about to move her more, but not a second later, and the woman in his arms shifted on her own, so that her shoulder was pressed away from him and she was lying flat on the bed.

"Itachi..." she murmured, confused, eyes open half-mast.

There was the light sleeping ninja he knew.

"Mmm..." he hummed, the sound vibrating in his chest. "Go back to sleep."

She obliged, gracing him with a dopey smile. But instead of curling against him like she was wont to, she simply inclined her head a bit more towards his own, keeping her position. He must've moved her for a reason after all. He could see in her eyes that she doubted he'd like it if she continued to cling to him.

Itachi silently appreciated her consideration.

This was why he adored her—she had a natural instinct to nurture, to see what another wanted and to adjust what she could for their comfort, to be kind for no other reason than for the sake of it, to give without limit, only expecting his loyalty and his affection in return. Both were things he was happy to give. Because he loved her for who she was; not the sterile standard of herself that the rest of the Hyuga wanted her to meet.

But his mind was running off with him again.

He laid on his side, busying himself with watching her breaths slowly even out. There were few things better than waking up next to the woman he loved. And he couldn't think of a single one at the moment.

If the world diminished to only this, he thought, watching her close her eyes; to her breaths, slow and even, enveloping him in warmth and fire and love, then he would never need anything else. He would never _want_ anything else.

All that mattered was her, and that she existed here with him tonight.

* * *

 _A/N: A/N:_ _ **I released a separate ItaHina Modern AU One-shot.**_ _It's a bit sad, but it would mean the world to me if you guys checked it out. I skipped writing a request today because this was caught in my head._

 _Please Review._


	11. Concern

_Disclaimer: I don't own Naruto._

* * *

 _ **Request by: Daisy Field (Reaction to Itachi dating Hinata.)**_

 _ **Kiba's POV.**_

* * *

Uchiha Itachi was courting his teammate.

 _Uchiha Itachi_ was courting his teammate.

 _Uchiha Itachi was courting his—_

Kiba groaned.

Because what the actual fuck?

When he first heard the news from his sister, Hana, after she'd attended a gathering party for the clans, he'd thought her joking. The Uchiha heir was, after all, never interested in anyone or anything beyond his family and... tea houses. Friggin old man. He and Shikarmaru would definitely hit it off. Why was he even interested in the shy, demure Hyuga? Sure, she was graceful, elegant, adorable—even sexy without the jacket—and her personality was kindness incarnate, but... but...

 _Hokage's teeth_ , he thought.

He just answered his own question.

But she was _Hinata!_ And he didn't mean that in a bad way. She was Team _Eight's_ Hinata, who fumbled when she wasn't looking where she was going, overheated when she was embarrassed, and loved her little sister to bits and pieces to the point where they were actually concerned about her suffocating the girl whenever they hugged.

Kiba had known this day would come, and he'd dreaded it with every fiber of his being. Hinata was long past the age of marriage proposals—16 for clan women, though 18 if they were ninjas—and at 20, she had every head from wealthy feudal lords to struggling store clerks turning. She turned down dates with a firm, but shy refusal. Formal marriage proposals even came in. Most were refused by her father, while others were kept for further contemplation.

Kiba thought the Hyuga patriarch would dismiss the Uchiha's interest without a second thought. But a week later, when the news had circulated so much that even _children_ were talking about it, he realized then that there was absolutely no reason for the man to dismiss it. Not when the Uchiha had actually gone out of his way to start his courtship by going through the proper channels in a way only a clan as old-fashioned as the Hyuga would appreciate. Besides, it was infinitely better than wedding her off to the wealthy son of some distant landowner. Much better than having her marry a half-interested politician.

Itachi was genuine. Kiba knew it simply because he'd never shown interest in anyone else. The guy was more stoic than Shino, and as goal-oriented as Naruto.

And that was part of the problem, wasn't it?

Kiba couldn't hate him if he was genuine! He could hardly hate him now—Itachi was like a distant god in his eyes. On par with the first Hokage and other ninja heroes. How was she not intimidated by the guy? Hell, he was intimidated; and members of the Inuzuka clan were scarcely scared of anything!

Graduate of Konoha Academy at 5. ANBU Captain at 13. Next head of the prestigious Uchiha clan. War hero. Arguably stronger than some of the previous Hokage. Kiba could go on and on about him. The man was a living legend.

He wasn't just an Uchiha. He was _the_ Uchiha. And he was more than qualified to be her husband.

But it was his _job_ to hate him, damnit! Giving men that chased after his beautiful teammate a hard time was practically law. How was he supposed to do that when the Uchiha made it so damn hard to find something to complain about?!

Kiba groaned again, contemplating banging his head against the nearest wall.

 _He likes cats_! he mentally shouted, grinning stupidly at himself. _There._ _That's what I'll tell—shit. Hinata likes cats, too._

Why was this so hard?

And why in the world wasn't Shino here losing his mind with him?

Kiba lurched to a halt, his eyes widening at what he saw across the street. Emerging from a sweets shop was the couple that had the entire village buzzing. Hinata had even dressed up, donning a plain Komon that didn't distract from her face. Even Itachi looked relaxed. His hands shoved deeply into his black trousers.

Hinata's hands pressed together, before she said something too low for his ears to catch. It must've been quite the comment because not a moment later and Uchiha Itachi was laughing.

Uchiha. Itachi. Laughing.

God, this was worse than he thought.

And damnit, Hinata, what was she doing shooting him such a blinding smile? He might take it as encouragement!

 _Is she... blushing?_ he wondered, squinting. _She is!_

He needed to intervene. Quick-like.

Just as he thought it, Itachi's eyes met his for the briefest of moments. It was as if he could sense him watching them—the bastard probably had. And the cold look the man was shooting his way made him gulp. Kiba paused, hesitation making itself apparent on his face. Beside him, Akamaru whined the same way he did when he was denied dinner.

But then Hinata turned as well, her eyes lighting up at the sight of her beloved teammate. Lavender orbs that were full of trust and love for him— _him—_ met his own darker ones. Slowly, her hand raised in a wave, before the soft call of his name followed. Her voice was a light lilt carried by the wind. Soft like the rest of her.

Kiba made a promise to himself then—glaring, dissatisfied member of the ANBU or not, he wasn't about to make this easy.

* * *

 _A/N: I'm beginning to grow bored of this pairing. I'll go back to writing my novel series soon. I'm only taking one more request because of the long list I've already accepted. Show me what you guys got. If you're requesting as someone signed in, you WILL receive a response saying I accepted it. And, as always, please review._

 _ **To Daisy Field**_ _: You asked for a bunch of reactions. I settled for just Kiba because everyone would be too much. My bad._


	12. Bother

_Disclaimer: I don't own Naruto._

* * *

 _ **Request by: Guest (Mikoto telling Itachi that she wants Hinata as a daughter.)**_

* * *

His mother wouldn't leave him alone.

Itachi understood his father—the man hadn't let him be since his birth. But his mother usually left him to his own devices, only approaching when she noticed if he was being particularly odd or if something was going on with Sasuke. Itachi didn't hate his mother's attention. It was just... suffocating. Mikoto could be overbearing when she wanted to be. And he was so used to Sasuke being the baby of the house that when he was treated the same it just felt _wrong._

But here he was, sitting traditionally before their low dining table, as his mother—well, he didn't know really, was she lecturing him? Giving him advice? Threatening? It seemed to be a twisted combination of all three.

"Itachi, dear," she stopped in the middle of her tirade. "Are you listening to me?"

"Of course, mother," he lied.

"Good. Now where was I? Oh!" she pointed emphatically at him. "Have you spoken to Hiashi already? You need to hurry up and set a date for the wedding. That girl's a keeper. Very beautiful. Kind. She'll be a good mother. And oh, did you taste the fish rice bowl she made the other day? My god, Itachi! If you're not careful, someone else might sweep her off her feet!"

Though he knew it wasn't true, he liked to privately joke that his mother was, perhaps, more in love with Hinata than he was. But the more logical side of him knew that she was just eager to have—

"Two daughters, Itachi!" she squealed in delight. "I'm going to have two daughters!"

Ah, there it was.

The real reason for her excitement.

"And they're both darlings! Can you imagine how they'd look in kimonos? That thick, straight hair and those light eyes. Oh, we could all dress up for festivals just like what your aunts and cousins do!"

"Marriage is still far off, mother," he said. "We've yet to even speak about the political concerns of the Hyuga heiress becoming a part of the Uchiha clan."

"Don't you give me that! You're almost twenty-six, Itachi. I expected grandchildren three years ago! And I expected marriage long before that. At least let me have a daughter."

"We aren't marrying for your sake, mother," he said as politely as possible.

"Well, fine," she huffed, "but if you're going to fumble around, then I'll set Hinata up with Sasuke."

Itachi rubbed his temples in an uncharacteristic display of annoyance. What kind of threat was that? It was so ludicrous, it was actually effective.

"Then if it pleases you, I will... bring the topic up to Hiashi when I see him later."

Her eyes sparkled.

"You're going to go see him?" she said, standing up so quickly that the table rattled with her movements. "Wait here! I'm going to go get my old hairpins. They'd look perfect on Hinata! Oh, I'll wrap them in that pretty lilac wrapping paper I bought last week. Do you think Hinata would mind if I went to visit her as well?"

Sage, free him.

Where was Sasuke when he needed him? Only he seemed to know how to be able to properly distract his mother. As he watched his mother speak to herself, he noted his father was leaning on the wall just around the corner, wisely avoiding entering.

"Don't move," Mikoto suddenly warned, already rushing off to her room.

* * *

 _A/N: Please review._


	13. On the Sly

_Disclaimer: I don't own Naruto_.

* * *

 _ **Request by: WhiteGems (Sasuke scores points and drives Itachi mad.)**_

* * *

Returning from the training grounds, Sasuke caught sight of Hinata currently having a midday snack outside of a teahouse his brother favored. It was one of the few places that didn't employ women. Why that was, no one knew, but none of the Uchiha men were about to question that beautiful tidbit. Perhaps it was some kind of reverse ploy to attract them, and in turn, attract _more_ women to come eat? He did see a disturbing amount of them there. He could feel their eyes slinking across his skin, undressing him in their minds.

God, did Itachi have a private room or what? No way he regularly came to eat here.

And the all-male staff seemed to work against him now because Sasuke could see at least half of them eyeing the lonely Hyuga woman. He didn't blame them. She'd exchanged the jacket and long pants for shorts and a kimono style blouse with a tight obi around her middle, putting her large chest out on display. If you didn't do a double-take, you were either gay or so devoted that you might as well be.

Sasuke paused on his way to her, wondering for a moment how the waiters didn't know that she was already engaged. The ring on her finger was damn blinding. Not to mention, the news had probably already spread to the deepest, most remote corners of the Land of Fire... or maybe they did know, and that's why they were just lingering there, looking from afar. Maybe if he stayed long enough, one of them would throw all reason out the window and actually walk up to ask her out? That would be a sight. He was almost curious to see how she'd turn him down.

But... it was better to sit with her and ward off other men, so she wouldn't have to deal with them on her own. It's what his mother would want him to do. And who knows? One of those _other_ men might even accidentally spill a drink on her, then insist on buying her dinner as an apology. That was a go to move of waiters apparently. Hinata would be too polite to decline, and then _magic_ happened. Or so it went in all of the cliché stories Naruto told him.

It was best to err on the side of caution. Especially when it came to her.

At least, that was what he told himself—and that's exactly what he'd tell his brother if Hinata brought this little incident up to him when he returned from his mission.

"Hyuga," Sasuke called, stepping up to her. There was an array of colorful mochi laid out on the table with a cheery, ceramic cup on the far right.

"Sasuke-san," she greeted politely, smiling as he sat across from her. "What brings you here?"

He shrugged.

Hinata had apparently gotten used to his brother's noncommittal responses because she easily took that as an answer. "Have you eaten yet?" she asked, pushing a green colored mochi towards him. "Help yourself."

"I don't like sweets."

"... Oh." A pause. "Itachi loves them."

"I know."

Hinata blushed. From embarrassment at stating the obvious, he guessed, but he wasn't so versed in her expressions that he could say it for certain. There was an awkward silence, where Sasuke just stared as she ate. Her mouth opened, as if wanting to say something to him, but nothing came out.

Well, he _was_ the one that approached and disturbed her relaxing afternoon. So, that meant he'd have to pick up the conversation, didn't it?

"Do you know where Itachi went?" he asked, though he already knew the answer. He was at home when he left three days ago after all. But speaking to her was harder than he thought it would be—especially with his nonexistent social skills. He couldn't just hit her like he did Naruto, neither could he just brush her aside with rude comments and underdeveloped grunts. Itachi would have his head.

"He didn't say anything to you?" she asked, tilting her head slightly to the side. It was easily one of the cutest things he'd ever seen someone do. Her eyebrows pinched in disapproval at his brother's _actions._

 _Sorry, brother,_ he thought.

"He might have," Sasuke said, trying to do some damage control. "I was tired. I know he left, but I don't really remember the details."

"Ah." She smiled in sudden understanding, glad that his brother hadn't just up and left after all. "He went to Kirigakure. He couldn't give me the details because they were classified, so it was definitely something ANBU related. I hope he's doing okay."

Sasuke stared. Not just because of the slight gasping sound that left her lips whenever she spoke or the way she covered her mouth with a delicate hand after taking a big bite of mochi, but because that damn heart-stopping smile made his blood burn hotly in his veins.

He suddenly regretted skipping marriage meetings for the past few years, and instead dumping them all on Itachi, who he knew wouldn't refuse him such a _small_ favor. In fact, this year would be his first time actually doing it now that his brother had found himself a wife. But damn, if only he had known—well, no, that wasn't entirely true. Sasuke _had_ known. He'd seen the list of candidates and had read through them as was his obligation as the Uchiha Clan's second son. Hinata's name was _always_ at the very top. She'd just never interested him before that little bedroom incident where he actually saw her for the insane beauty that she was. And if that was unbelievably shallow of him, then so be it.

Sasuke went for looks first, _then_ assessed personality.

But this just wasn't fair.

Itachi had never even given him a chance at the heiress.

The young Uchiha purposely chose to ignore the fact that he didn't even want a chance at the time. In fact, he distinctly recalled laughing when Itachi announced his intentions. Hinata had mastered the art of plainness so much that even he'd been fooled. It didn't help that Itachi's descriptions of her were always just her qualities—good cook, kind, gentle, demure, stubborn—as if he knew Sasuke would get curious and investigate if he even muttered the word: beautiful.

Damn sly bastard.

"Sasuke," Hinata called, snapping him from his reverie. Her eyebrows were pinched together in concern again. For him, he realized with no small amount of pleasure. "Are you okay? I've been calling you for the past two minutes."

"Fine," he said, trying to ignore the happiness he felt from her attention.

But it was impossible. Not when she smiled again. The corner of her lips turned up shyly, though her happiness somehow came across even better than Naruto, who was practically known for his wide, easy grins. How that was even possible was beyond him. Perhaps it was because she was a Hyuga. They were famed for three things: their doujutsu, their traditional beauty, and theiry icy demeanors, so getting one to smile was a feat in itself. It didn't matter that she was an exception.

When he caught the pleased blush that spread over her cheeks just from smiling at him, Sasuke's own face tinted.

* * *

His little brother was driving him up the wall.

The first time Hinata had told him about his brother popping up to join her at _their_ special teahouse, Itachi had thought it amusing. So, Sasuke had a crush. Wonderful. He'd get over it in a few weeks.

He _had_ to.

Because the woman he was infatuated with was, for one, not interested; and two, his _fiancé._

His brother was lucky that Hinata had been delighted by his company, so he quickly let it go. Itachi didn't even bother with a customary confrontation just to let his little brother know that he knew he was being naughty. But after a while, whenever he came home to her after a mission he'd hear some new story about Sasuke suddenly approaching her to help with shopping or randomly appearing to take her out to eat—

He'd had enough.

"Hinata," Itachi called, interrupting her saying something about the wonderful day she had with her little sister.

Startled, she looked up at him. "Yes?"

"About Sasuke..." he paused, taking in the confused tilt of her head at the sudden mention of his younger brother. Had his brother seen that expression? He had, hadn't he? Itachi was going to kill him.

"What about him?" she asked, reaching up to rub away the wrinkle between his eyebrows.

"He's..."

She waited patiently for him to find the words.

"No, never mind," Itachi whispered, hating the way she frowned.

"Are you sure?"

"Yes. It's nothing important."

"Even if it isn't, I want you to—"

Itachi wrapped his arms around her waist and rubbed his nose in her neck, muffling the rest of her sentence in his shoulder. He wanted to tell her to stay away, but... just imagining the distress in her eyes had him hesitating. Itachi didn't want her to frown because of his selfishness. Besides, that would only cause problems. Hinata wasn't the one at fault, and she seemed to be enjoying his little brother's company when he wasn't around. Itachi knew it made her feel more welcome. No reason to make it awkward for her.

"I just missed you, Hime," he murmured, teeth nipping at her skin, making her blush. "So, please... stay awhile."

He had a mission in the morning.

Tonight, he needed to make sure he left a proper mark.

* * *

 _A/N: Please Review._


	14. Whoops!

_Disclaimer: I don't own Naruto._

* * *

 _ **Request by: WhiteGems**_

 _ **Warning: Mature Scenes.**_

* * *

Itachi shoved her against the wall.

Hinata's breaths came out in ragged gasps, short, hot, and making him harder. He took a moment to admire her form. The way the bottom of her kimono opened from his ministrations, exposing creamy legs, as the top practically fell off of her, giving him a view others would kill for. Her hair was a disheveled mess. Tendrils of dark purple that contrasted sharply with her skin.

"Itachi," she pleased.

His member twitched at the sound. His fingers twitched right along with it, body practically begging his mind to just give in to his instincts and allow him to reach out. But not yet. First—his sharingan activated—he needed to commit this to memory, needed to make sure he never forgot her wanting him so badly that her legs shook, that her breaths came out in strangled gasps that begged for him to come closer. Absently, he noted how the appearance of his blood red eyes made her tilt her head back, lavender orbs clouding over with lust, even as her mouth let out a high-pitched whine.

What was she fantasizing about?

When she began undoing her obi herself, he swallowed, his throat suddenly dry from how bad she wanted him.

And then he couldn't contain himself anymore.

He grabbed his shirt from behind his back and pulled it high over his head, watching in satisfaction when she paused, her eyes widening at the sight of his toned body. Itachi pressed himself against her, chest to chest, one leg squeezing between her thighs. He craned his neck down, muffling her moans with his tongue. Callused hands gripped anything they could reach. Breasts, back, waist, thighs. She ran her hands through his hair, tossing aside his hair tie, before pressing a spot behind his shoulders that had him grunting like an animal.

She was so sinfully soft.

He undid her obi just enough so she could spread her legs, then slid his knee up, touching an intimate part that just begged for more. She tried to rub against him, only for him to pull away and lift her up against the wall instead. Hinata's legs wrapped around him out of instinct. Her hands trailed red marks over his biceps, as she rubbed her core against the spot where hip met stomach, wanting, _needing_ friction.

Itachi shifted her upwards with an arm, so he could bend down and blow heated breath over the crown of one of her breasts. Once she was practically whining at him to do something more, he took it in, tongue first, rolling it in his mouth. He pulled away just long enough to lick the thumb of his free hand, before it trailed downwards to rub that sensitive bundle of nerves he knew would have her—

Hinata screamed.

He was going to make her cum until she cried.

Her hands gripped his shoulders, drawing herself higher, as if to get away from his wandering thumb; fortunately for her, he followed. Itachi crushed her back against the wall with his weight, locking her in place. He shoved his face against that sensitive spot on her collar, sucking and leaving what he could, before he trailed back downward, traces of saliva following him.

With a great amount of difficulty, she reached for his waist, slipping his pants down just enough to free his throbbing erection.

And then, without warning, he was inside her.

Hot, tight womanly heat. Completely raw.

Itachi groaned. Deep and guttural.

Before him, Hinata cried out a moan, incoherently murmuring his name. Her grip was so tight, he knew he'd be waking up with fresh bruises. Itachi didn't even give her time to adjust, before he started moving. Fast and hard. Just the way she liked it. He could feel her growing slicker with each thrust, could feel himself hardening to the point where it was painful. He never wanted this to stop. Never wanted her to cease her cries of pleasure—pleasure that he was creating. Him, and only him.

The thought made him want to cum right then and there.

He squeezed her nipple between a thumb and forefinger, before going back to rubbing her already swollen clit. Slow, circular motions, broken by the occasional quick flick. That, accompanied by his impatient thrusts was enough to have her crying out in ecstasy.

She was so addicting.

And he was so, so glad that he convinced her to spend the night in his apartment.

At least... until...

"Itachi," Sasuke said, walking through the door, key spinning around his finger. "I need—"

Silence.

For a long moment, all was still.

Sasuke and Itachi just stared at each other, eyes as wide as they could go.

Hinata blushed madly, then made a small _'eep'_ noise that he couldn't quite describe. But instead of pushing Itachi away like any other woman would've done, she hugged him like a pillow, as if to hide her nakedness. Unfortunately, that only caused him to go hilt deep inside her.

Itachi clamped his mouth shut to contain his groan.

This woman...

"I—" Sasuke swallowed, frozen.

"Get out," Itachi ordered darkly. It was more terrifying than any amount of screaming others might've done.

The effect was immediate. Sasuke gathered his bearings, and with speed that would've put Konoha's Yellow Flash to shame, had locked and slammed his door shut.

As soon as he left, Itachi slumped over Hinata's form, sighing into her neck in a way that made her squeak. What was the point of moving out if his brother was just going to drop by in the middle of the night like he usually did? Itachi didn't mind his brother hanging around, but they weren't children anymore. Perhaps he should take away his key? Or set a curfew, barring him from visiting after dark?

"U—umm," Hinata murmured, shifting. She wrapped her arms around his neck to steady herself.

"I'm sorry about that," he replied. Still half-stiff. He'd have to finish this off by himself in the bathroom because damn did it hurt.

"M—M..."

"What?" he asked, backing up slightly to look at her face. Good lord, that blush did things to him. And she was still so wet. He was going to have to bother his little brother relentlessly tomorrow.

"I w—w..."

"You're stuttering," he rebuked.

"Yes, b—"

" _Hinata,_ just tell me."

"I want you to move!"

Itachi sighed in despair, already pushing away.

"Not like that!" Hinata yelled, drawing him back by the shoulders. She clung to him like a koala. And once again, inadvertently sheathed him completely. "L—Like this."

Her hips rocked forward.

His eyes widened, bewildered. Even as he hardened again.

 _Does she really still want to—_

Growling, he shoved her back against the wall.

He'd question it later.

* * *

 _A/N: LOL. I purposely didn't put the request on top like I usually do. But it was_ _ **"Sasuke catches Itachi and Hinata getting frisky or doing the deed."**_ _;)_

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 _Please Review._


	15. Crow

_Disclaimer: I don't own Naruto._

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His summon was in love with her.

The thought of one of his crows eyeing his wife wasn't disconcerting. Not really. Rather, it was just... _new_. His crows were never particularly vocal about their preferences in regards to people or things. If he needed something done, then they did it. No questions asked. Maybe a tilt of their elegantly sloped heads, but otherwise they kept their opinions to themselves. Their likes and dislikes were a well-guarded secret that they never made apparent to anyone—not even to him, who had been their most frequent summoner for the past two decades.

They'd also never blatantly shown affection to any one of his friends or family. They just did their job when called and disappeared when it was finished. Itachi favored them for their respect and for their efficiency.

So, why was it that when he came home after a grueling two-week long mission guarding a young woman that proclaimed to be madly in love with him after a single glance, one of the crows he usually left to watch over Hinata while he was gone was sitting on her shoulder, rubbing its dark head against her cheek in a manner more fit for a dog than a bird.

Itachi rubbed his eyes, making sure that he was seeing right. His eyesight had been spotty recently, but not to the point where he would mistake his bird for something else. Perhaps he was caught in a genjutsu of some sort? No, that was impossible. Uchiha Itachi didn't get trapped in genjutsu—if he did, then it would have to be a spectacular one, indeed. The sort that could bring the rest of the world to its knees. Was this a hallucination then? A trick of the light? While he wasn't prepared to declare himself mentally unsound, there was no other explanation for the sight before him. Did the insane even know they were past the realm of reality? Or did the realization come to them after time and medication? He wasn't sure, but he made a mental note to find out.

"Itachi," Hinata called, delighted. She ran up to him to take the pack from his shoulders. His bird was still balanced gracefully on her shoulder. "Welcome home."

"... I'm home," he said, late. But that didn't stop her from smiling up at him. Itachi didn't return it, but he did take note of it, memorizing it and comparing it with the rest of her smiles in the back of his mind. Just in case there was something wrong. He did that in the span of a second, before his eyes focused back on his crow.

His summon was glaring at him. As if he was the enemy.

It was... it wasn't _right._

"Takase was keeping me company," she explained when she noticed his distracted gaze.

Hinata rubbed the bird's plume, and Itachi narrowed his eyes. Since when did his crows give out their names? And when did they willingly approach anyone? When he'd first made his pact with them, he'd gotten into a six hour long glaring contest with their leader—a creepy, six-eyed thing with eyes blacker than tar and talons sharper than any of his blades. Its appearance didn't stop him from emerging the victor, but he easily considered it to be the most unnerving six hours of his life. And Takase knew that, simply because he was the leader's son and had been present throughout that long stare down. Itachi didn't appreciate being glared at by the bird, who was starting to look eerily similar to his father.

He'd always known that Hinata had the uncanny ability to attract people to her. He blamed it on her kind demeanor. It screamed, _'protect me.'_ But seducing his crow was another matter entirely. If she could do it, then surely others might.

Itachi had never thought of his crows as easy creatures, but perhaps—

"I am _not_ easy," Takase squawked, affronted by the thoughts making themselves apparent in Itachi's eyes.

Itachi was quick to smooth his face over into its usual indifferent mask. Had he said that out loud? Or were his thoughts just _that_ transparent? He didn't think they were, but when he wasn't on missions, most of his days were spent in his wife's adoring company. She was so open all the time, which prompted him to act in a similar manner. It didn't help that he was comfortable in her presence. There were downsides to being off his guard for extended periods of time.

"I'm sorry," Hinata quickly said, wanting to relieve the sudden tension between them. "I asked Takase to come inside. He was perched on the tree nearby like usual, but you were gone, the house was quiet, and it was cold out, so I figured he'd be more comfortable inside, seeing as how his job is to watch the house with me."

"Hinata," he called, lifting her chin up to see her eyes. "I'm not angry. Just... surprised. Takase is much like myself. He prefers to be left to his own devices."

Hinata tilted her head at him in confusion. "But he came inside so quickly. It must've been very cold out."

So, his crow _was_ easy.

"I am _not!_ " Takase screeched once more.

Itachi never had to physically try to restrain his expressions before, but he was also rarely surprised. He reminded himself to work on his slowly crumbling mask. After he had a talk with his summons leader of course. It would be best if someone other than Takase kept watch from now on.

 _He's wasted on guard duty_ , Itachi reasoned. With that unnerving glare, Itachi knew he'd be better fit for missions outside the village. He was lethal with a strong pair of wings and razor sharp reflexes. Takase was meant to be out with him, lost in the heat of battle. Not nuzzling his wife, who was all too happy to cater to the bird's whims while he was away. His summon might get soft.

... Or so he told himself.

And that's exactly what he'd tell Takase's father, too.

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 _A/N: Typed in ten minutes on my cell last night. Excuse any typos. Takase isn't the bird's canon name, but I didn't know if it actually had one. I checked the wikia, but all it said was "Itachi's Crow". If any of you happen to know, please tell me and I'll switch the name here._

 _The next chosen request on my list will be up after this chapter. **Requests are closed.** _

_Please review._


	16. Mood Swings

_Disclaimer: I don't own Naruto._

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 _ **Request by: QueenLeo1994 (Itachi dealing with pregnant Hinata's mood swings).**_

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Itachi stilled at the door.

There was an ominous feeling in the air. Dark and heavy. It made it hard to breathe. It was similar to the rush that ran through him on an S-Class mission two years ago when he'd stepped into a cave only to realize that it was painted in the blood of dozens of his comrades. And without warning, his sharingan activated. Ready to kill. Ready to maim and slowly torture whoever had—

"Itachi!" his wife ran, crying into his arms.

Her hair was a mess, her loose kimono top falling from one shoulder, as she gripped him hard enough to make him wince. But he was Uchiha Itachi, and his face remained as stoic as ever. Only his eyes betrayed him, flashing with concern at her frazzled state.

Barely six hours gone, and she was literally breaking down in front of him.

He held her gently, making sure to pivot himself in such a way that he wasn't pressing against her large, seven month pregnant belly that held their precious son.

"What's wrong, Hinata?" he prompted, grasping her chin to make her look up at him.

"Where were you?" she half-sobbed, half-screamed. Clearly not sure whether to be upset with him or sad at... well, he didn't know really. "You didn't come back for dinner!"

"I told you I had a mission remember?" he said, closing the door behind him, so the neighbors wouldn't hear.

She cried harder.

God, help him. He hated making her cry, but how in the world was he supposed to fix this? He wiped her tears away with his thumbs, trying and failing to get her to stop.

"I'm here now," he offered. "What did you need?"

To his surprise, she gently pushed his hands away. Her tears were beginning to clear up, but her nose hadn't. And when she spoke, her voice came out nasally.

"You smell," she declared pressing the pads of her small fingers to her wrinkled nose and rubbing it. The fact that she could smell him, despite all that snot was a testament to just how true that statement was.

That didn't stop him from thinking how adorable her sniffling was. Itachi wanted to tell her so. But the last time he called her cute, she'd gotten angry at him for reasons he still didn't understand. Then she'd, in no uncertain terms, stated that she wanted sweet bread from a bakery all the way across town. He didn't mind going to get it for her or using his inhuman speed and high-level jutsus to fuel him, but he never thought he'd ever use the body flicker technique to run errands.

The moment he appeared before that tiny shop was still fresh in his mind. The owner had screamed and almost bloodied his ears with the sound. Then proceeded to bad mouth all Uchiha's after that, despite the generous tip he had given her. It went on for two whole weeks, until Shisui had flashed the old woman a heart-stopping smile, and she completely changed her tune. Not even an hour later, and everyone in the clan had begun teasing him about his new cougar.

 _Way to take one for the clan, cousin._

"Are you listening to me?" Hinata suddenly asked.

Itachi stilled.

He didn't even know she was talking.

"Of course," he lied, quickly pressing a kiss on her lips to appease her—and to silence any doubts.

She smiled happily at him. And he was at least glad that his kisses still worked.

"I'm going to take a shower," Itachi said, already slipping off his shirt. But he stopped once she caught his elbow. Itachi turned, blood draining from his face when she stared crying again. "W... What's wrong?"

"Don't undress in front of me!" she yelled, arms going around her stomach self-consciously. "I'm fat right now and y—you're—"

Itachi pinched the bridge of his nose, refraining from making a comment about how much of a cinnamon bun eating monster she was. He could usually get away with light teasing, but recently, she'd get irrationally angry, cry, then either fall asleep or talk happily and hug him, as if she hadn't just been upset two minutes prior.

It was, for lack of a better word, _hell_.

He'd always been prone to headaches, and her contradictions these past few months did nothing to ease the problem. Itachi distinctly recalled barely being able to keep up with her and her _ridiculous_ libido not even four months ago. She hated when he put on clothes then. Itachi needed that Hinata back.

"Hina—"

"You're angry!" she shouted, burying her face in her hands. "I—I'm sorry! I know I'm being difficult. The hormones are acting up, but it's just so hard to look at you when you're like that and I'm like..." she trailed off, bowing her head dejectedly.

Itachi sighed and spread his arms wide.

"Would it help if you touched me?"

She peeked through her fingers, crimson blush already staining her cheeks. "B—But..." she looked down at her stomach again, then at him, before vehemently shaking her head. "You need to take a bath first!"

He raised an eyebrow.

So, he was the problem?

* * *

 _A/N: *raises hand* I wanna touch you, Itachi._

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 _Please Review._


	17. First Kiss

_Disclaimer: I don't own Naruto._

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 _ **Request by: Ginko-chan's Sugar Content (First Kiss)**_

* * *

It was Itachi's first, and quite possibly last, mission he had with his _soon-to-be_ girlfriend. _Soon-to-be_ because he hadn't actually asked the woman properly yet. Neither did their outings extend past a few house visits and sweets being passed around. She was incredibly stubborn for a woman. Her tastes were grounded—not to mention, questionable, considering his little brother's loud best friend was apparently her type—and getting her to succumb to his charms was a slow process. Painfully so.

He'd spent an inordinate amount of time plotting ways to get her to fall for him. Even going so far as to ask his cousin, Shisui, for advice. The man was all too happy to laugh at his face before even attempting to help. And even then, his outgoing, charismatic, _to-die-for_ (according to hundreds of fangirls) cousin had just ended up a dopey smiling mess in front of her.

 _That idiot._

... But his love life wasn't the point.

The point was that being an elite member of the ANBU, Itachi didn't get to work with regular jonin often. And the Hokage specifically avoided placing two ninjas that were in any way " _involved_ " on teams for obvious reasons, but they'd made an exception in this case due to the delicate nature of the job. Still, that didn't stop the Hokage from reminding them no less than _eight_ times before they left that they were professionals and he expected them to act as such. Which basically translated to: 'Courting or not, I don't want to hear anything about you two getting cozy.'

Throughout the meeting, Itachi couldn't help but think that the Sixth read too much smut. Because Kakashi was clearly off his eggs if he thought that Itachi would even attempt at getting frisky with a woman that could very well paralyze him for life... down there. His father would have an aneurysm if his genius was never passed on. Sasuke would have to compensate. Shisui would try to fix it—and that was just a whole different mess he didn't want to get into.

The mission started out pleasant enough.

They'd been tasked to infiltrate a manor and track down the ringleader of a group of missing ninjas from Kiri. All pretty standard. The only reason they were specifically chosen was because they needed to go undercover, and who better than two born and bred blue-bloods that could actually fit into high society? It helped that news of their courtship—sage, they made it sound like two shimmying peacocks—had already spread, so their showing up together was hardly a surprise.

It didn't take long to weed out the traitors. Barely two nights, and they'd already figured out where they'd been holing themselves up. Hinata was better than him at needling nobles for information, and while she busied herself with their glamorous world, Itachi took darker, more secret paths. Seducing servants with a stare, pinning guards against the wall.

Again, all standard.

But it was after their mission that things started to go downhill.

As soon as they announced the success of their mission, their very rich, very posh hirers had insisted on throwing a celebratory banquet. And since they were in a rather remote part of the country, ninjas were rare. Ninjas with some degree of nobility, even rarer. It didn't take long for women to saunter up to him, batting their eyelashes for attention; and in typical Uchiha fashion, they were all looked at, judged, and ignored in a matter of seconds. Though for reasons beyond him, that only seemed to turn them on more.

The young men that had gathered around Hinata were meeker, asking questions with blushes on their faces. The older ones were curious and pushy, as if they had more of a right to her attention simply because of their years.

Regardless, she politely declined their advances.

She even tilted her head in his direction, as if subtly reminding them all that the man openly courting her was nearby. Their stunted faces had been quite the sight. Though he would've preferred it if she had made a beeline towards him instead. But he'd take what he could get.

Itachi had decided to take a long walk after that. To revel in the peace the countryside had to offer. While he enjoyed silence, he wasn't keen on giving up his life in the bustling city of Konoha in exchange for solitude here. He'd grow bored sooner or later. Perhaps even weak. Like the rest of the small town's denizens.

By the time he thought it prudent to return, the sun had already begun to set. It was between debating entering the more crowded areas to search for a souvenir for his brother or just using his sharingan to find Hinata for dinner that he stilled, his good mood suddenly taking a turn for the sour.

Hinata had her back turned to him, picking out prime cuts of beef at a small stall nestled between large wooden crates filled to the brim with spices. She had a bag of vegetables in one hand, clearly looking to prepare herself something to eat, rather than just dining out.

She smiled shyly at the two vendors in a way that made his insides twist.

The two smiled back.

A man, heavy with age, and his much fitter son manned the stall. They both sported bronze tans and dirty blond hair. It must've been darker at one point, but the sun had no doubt had its way with the coarse strands. It probably felt as rough as it looked. Their hair reminded him somewhat of the wild maims donned by the Inuzuka clan, Itachi noted absently. But other than that, they were different people entirely.

For all intents, they seemed like kind, genuine people.

He didn't know why her smiling at them bothered him more than when she'd done the exact same thing to the pompous nobles and wealthy landowners from before, but he could venture a guess.

They were sincere.

Warm. Pleasant. Accepting—and all those other traits he associated with civilians. They were grateful just for her attention, seeking nothing more than her time and a casual conversation with a new face. And seeing as how they were neither ninjas, nor politically important individuals, they were also oblivious to the rest of the world's knowledge of his apparent interest in her.

It was enough to make his eyes bleed red.

"Are you attached, Miss?" the older man asked. "This is quite a bit of food."

"Oh, I'm here with someone," she said vaguely. "Though I'm not sure where he is at the moment. But I figured he'd turn up sooner or later."

"He?"

"Yes. I just hope he's hungry... and that he likes beef."

The man laughed. "No worries there, Miss. If it's meat, he'll eat it."

"That's reassuring."

Itachi listened in on their conversation as he approached. His gait was casual, but deliberate enough for people to know he wasn't aimlessly wandering. There were always one or two exceptionally bold women in crowds, the sort confident enough to approach him. While he didn't fault them for their interest, he also wasn't one for idle conversation with a woman clearly trying to get in his pants. His father would have his head if he ever showed an iota of the playful insolence his cousin did.

So, Itachi deliberately furrowed his brows and turned up his scowl, knowing that the look on his face alone was enough to send men running towards the hills with their tails between their legs. Kakashi had once joked that he could curdle milk with his glare—or at least he thought he was joking. He hoped so.

"So," the stall owner went on, "if you're still single, would you mind if I offered up my son here as a potential prospect? We live a modest life, but I can assure you that he's a good ma—"

"Dad!" his son yelled, blushing.

"You need to put yourself out there, son!"

"Don't ask for me! That just—"

"Oh, there's no shame in having your father ask for you!" He hit the boy over the head. "So, what do you say, Miss?"

Hinata's smile faltered. "I'm sorry, bu—"

"Hinata," Itachi suddenly called, startling her into turning.

Behind her, the two store vendors stilled, openly gaping at him. If it was because of his sudden appearance or his looks, Itachi didn't know. It was always hard to tell with people.

But that wasn't important now.

In a flash, his hand settled on the small of her back and he leaned down for the briefest of instances to press his lips flush against hers. It was a strange sensation. His, thin and chapped. Hers, cushioned and petal-like. The difference was startling, and he realized now why his father always carried around lip ointment.

Not a second later, and he was already pulling away. Her lips trailed after his out of instinct, before she stopped herself.

Itachi took a moment to peer at her wide eyes and red face. Her mouth was slightly ajar.

"I—Itachi!" she stuttered, reeling back but unable to do so because of his hand firmly holding her in place. She touched her lips in a way that had him smirking in satisfaction.

"Mmm?" Itachi hummed, licking his lips distractedly. He didn't get a taste, but he just _knew_ that she was so much more delicious than she looked. His entire face was tingling.

"Why did you..."

Instead of answering the implied question, he grabbed the bag of groceries from her and threw a wad of bills on the counter, before meeting the eyes of the vendors to nod briefly in acknowledgement. By the time they gathered their wits enough to scramble for change, Itachi was already walking away.

"Are you coming?" he asked, turning his head to shoot his _soon-to-be_ girlfriend a stare.

Hinata hesitated, before, "Y—Yes!"

He turned quickly, not wanting her to see the small smile that turned his lips.

As she caught up to him, head bowed and hands folded in front of her, Itachi couldn't help but notice that she hadn't bought any beef. He mentally patted himself on the back for that one. He _hated_ beef. Two birds with one stone never rang more accurate in his mind. Placing a hand on the small of her back that had her blushing intensely, Itachi steered her towards another stall filled end to end with raw fish. Perhaps it was time they got to know each other's preferences.

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 _A/N: Another update to tide you cool kids over until January. I'll see you guys again in 2018. Please review._


	18. Extending Snippets

_Disclaimer: I don't own Naruto._

* * *

 ** _Extending Snippets_**

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 **Morning After**

 **100 Words.**

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There's a flash of a match in the dark, before it gives way to the softer glow of candlelight, and somewhere, as Hinata drifts between the realms of perception, she hears the rich, tender sigh of her name. It's low enough to ignore, but heated enough to startle her into wakefulness.

Because, oh, she knows that voice.

The sound of her name in Itachi's throat is rooted as deeply within her as the pink scar on her chest, as the scent of midday rain after a tired morning—old and warm. Familiar and comfortable in the wake of dawn's light.

* * *

 **Bath**

 **150 Words.**

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Let it be said that Hyuga Hinata was a goddess made to walk the mortal realm.

Itachi groaned, leaning his head back, while her delicate hands slipped into his dark tresses. She was currently in his lap, legs pressed against his, gorgeous breasts wet and just above the soapy water, giving him a stunning view, as she leaned over him to shampoo his hair.

He grabbed one of her hands with his own, pressing a kiss against it, before twining their fingers for him to tilt his head against. Even kneeling on top, she was barely taller than him.

His fingers trailed reverently up her side. They paused at her waist, contemplating, before purposely reaching up to grope one of her perfect globes. Painted fingers pulled at the sensitive crown.

"Hinata," he called. Low and throaty.

Itachi couldn't quite help the self-satisfied smirk that split his lips when she moaned.

* * *

 **Hyuga Touch**

 **200 Words.**

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"What do you mean you've never had a massage?" Sasuke asked, incredulous.

"It's exactly as it sounds," came Itachi's unperturbed response.

Sasuke whirled around to face Hinata, his eyes practically screaming at her to explain this madness. "Just how long have you two been married?" he demanded. "Have you really never given him a massage?"

"Don't blame her, Sasuke. The Hyuga have no need for massages."

"Oh, please! They're the first people you think of when the word massage comes up."

"Why are you making a big deal out of this?"

"Because—fuck!" he moaned in pleasure, his knees buckling without his consent. In that one instant of bewildered sensation, he felt relaxed, turned on, and just so utterly satisfied with all of his life choices.

 _What the_ —

Sasuke turned to find Hinata standing behind him, her pointer finger charged with chakra. She had the most innocent look on her face.

He wanted to yell at her for that little surprise attack. Hell, he'd even settle for a glare. But good god that had felt amazing.

Absently, he registered Itachi laughing at him.

"Satisfied, little brother?"

Sasuke couldn't even manage a proper sneer.

Shit.

He needed to find himself a Hyuga.

* * *

 **Conflicting Schedules**

 **250 Words.**

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Itachi leaned against the wall, donning nothing but black pants, as he watched Hinata put on her shoes—simple flats that he was sure she'd exchange for heels as soon as she got to the office.

Today was one of his rare days off.

Unfortunately for him, it was a weekday and didn't coincide with his girlfriend's schedule. His eyes roamed her face, pausing at the naturally pink lips, before they lingered on what she was wearing. A white button-up and a navy pencil skirt. Both of which he had picked out for her, but now he didn't know whether to be happy or upset about her actually wearing them.

The articles of clothing certainly couldn't be considered inappropriate—if anyone but Hinata was wearing them. The outfit exposed her creamy legs and hugged her curves, emphasizing her tiny waist and sinfully large chest. And even though she wore a jacket to keep herself safe against the frigid air outside, he knew she'd be taking it off sooner or later.

Hinata tucked her long hair behind her ear, before turning to look up at him. "I'll be home by eight."

"It's cold outside," Itachi warned when she finally stood. He adjusted the lapels of her coat, willing her to stay for just a moment longer. "Be careful."

She leaned up to kiss him. "I will."

As he watched her go, leaving him in a cold and empty house, he thought that maybe he should just go to work after all.

* * *

 _A/N: Happy New Year! My motivated ass just finished an 11k word chapter for my third novel, bringing my word count up to a nice 66k. I feel so accomplished. Start your year off right guys! I hope you all have a wonderful time. :D_


	19. I'm Sorry

_Disclaimer: I don't own Naruto._

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 **Request by: Shinji00 (Itachi regrets breaking up with Hinata. Modern AU.)**

 **Warning: Somewhat OOC.**

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Itachi regretted it—giving her a reason to leave him.

The emotion didn't come in the beginning. No, in the beginning, there was only satisfaction, swollen pride, and smug joy. There was glory in the fact that the Hyuga heiress, the untouchable, the uninterested in anything beyond the small circle she called her own, succumbed to him.

"It was a matter of course," many people said, both out in the open and behind two hands. He was Uchiha Itachi. Heir, genius, playboy. Everyone fell for his natural charms eventually. The shy woman never stood a chance.

Idiots, the lot of them. Gossiping little idiots that liked to pretend they knew everything about a person. What did they know about him? About her? About anything beyond the rich bubble they liked to hole themselves in? They were a haughty bunch. And if murder wasn't a crime, Itachi might've rid the world of most of them years ago. He certainly had enough dirt on each to know that most didn't deserve to live. They were scum.

But their lives weren't the problem now. It was what left their mouths.

Whatever they said, each compliment and badly veiled insult... simply wasn't the case with her. Itachi had tried, actually tried, his hardest to impress the woman. His usual high-class restaurants and fancy overseas trips would never do. Not when she was used to such treatment. Not when she could see a yacht and not bat an eye just from the sheer size of it. He'd even tried doing something more casual—diners, burger joints, places where a rich heiress wasn't likely to go and thus, would end up remembering him by.

So, as he walked down a dimly lit street with the greenish glow of an IHOP's sign hanging high above him, why was it that he was the one that remembered? Why could he remember exactly where she'd almost tripped and grabbed onto him? Why could he so distinctly recall her delightful smile and tinkling laugh, as she told him all about her friend, Kiba Inuzuka, who always brought her to these sorts of places?

"Twice a month," she'd told him with an adoring look in her eye, "for the last sixteen years."

It was their secret—and now his, too.

He remembered every expression, every lilt in her voice. Itachi had never once hated his memory, but he did then. And he did now. He hated that he recalled the way she spoke so animatedly when among friends; when next to him. The first time he had witnessed her eyes light up, his breath caught in his throat. Lost somewhere between the tightness of his chest and an emotion he couldn't name.

He missed that feeling.

Missed, too, the way she'd gently place a hand on his arm, subtly prompting him to look at her whenever she wanted to say something. Hinata wasn't loud or clingy. She grew up like him after all, and had the manners to match.

They were... similar where it mattered.

Their relationship was a game at first. Nothing more than a mindless prompt by his best friend, Kisame, thrown somewhere in the middle of various taunts hurled at him about one thing or another from the rest of his old college friends. He'd accepted. Because he was half-drowned in alcohol already and looking to alleviate his boredom. Itachi liked challenges.

He didn't remember much that night. Except that when he awoke, still in a haze, he was in bed and had the insatiable urge to win the woman over.

Itachi remembered after though.

The chasing. The dates. The trying.

All the trying.

He noticed all of her qualities while they were together, too, of course. The good, the bad, the mildly irritating. Although he did furiously deny an unholy number of the good ones in his mind, merely chocking it up to his own imagination. It had always been overactive, and he had firmly believed it to be painting the Hyuga woman as perfect because he hadn't been with a woman in a while, and here she was, with her amazing body and cute face that shouldn't have existed in one creature. Yet it did, somehow, in her.

For reasons beyond his knowledge, however, he only appreciated all of it after.

After the slam of the door and the dead silence. After the angry cousin that almost broke his door down to pick up any bags she might've left and the hostile sister he still saw at dinner parties.

... After seeing her amidst a riot of colorful women, dressed in a long, simple, midnight blue dress he'd told her looked good on her once upon a time ten months after what happened.

When their eyes met across the large, gaudy ballroom back then, she had smiled at him, kind as she was. His chest heated, despite himself. She was in the company of a redhead with striking jade eyes and a deliberately gentle touch, as if he wasn't used to handling things with care. They looked to be the same age. He didn't know if they were together, but he was loathed to admit that they... fit. In a way. Disregarding the obvious color clash.

His name was Gaara, Itachi later learned when his father introduced them.

"He's young," his father had whispered in his ear, "but he shouldn't be underestimated."

Despite being the youngest of three, Gaara was the head of Suna Corporations. He was in town to finalize the merger between their company and Hyuga Incorporated in an effort to create better AI technology. And it was all orchestrated by the lovely woman beside the redhead. They'd apparently gone to college together. As short as Itachi and Hinata's relationship was, however, that was something she hadn't told him—or rather, something he hadn't had the opportunity to find out. Four months wasn't enough time to go over almost three decades of memories.

But if nothing else, there was one thing about that night that he was sure he'd remember until he was old and gray—

Hinata looked relaxed.

Happy, even.

Despite his presence. Despite the fact that when they last saw each other one of his old girlfriends was half-naked in his bed and Hinata had been holding back tears. He had expected her to scream, throw things, make a scene. Instead, Hinata gave him a hollow look. Broken and disappointed. She frowned in a way that made his stomach drop, then left without even a sigh. Somehow, her utter acceptance of the situation, as if she'd seen it coming, made it feel worse. Itachi didn't dare tell anyone about how he imagined it was Hinata that writhed beneath him that night.

Though he didn't show it, something had twisted inside him then. Something that was promptly ignored in a fit of denial. It was only after that dinner party, when he was graced once more with that kind smile and completely captivating, yet disinterested gaze that the feelings finally ruined him.

That was two weeks ago.

Now, standing on the gumdrop-riddled sidewalk, staring at a sad sign in the middle of the night, Itachi felt trapped. Stuck in time. Numb, yet restless. Like a caged animal, pacing in his isolation. The only interesting companion gone.

He should've taken it more seriously. Should've looked at her properly and ignored the fact that he'd only approached because of some juvenile taunt. Should've allowed his heart free reign for just one moment.

Should've... as if it mattered.

It was done now. Itachi didn't even know where she was.

 _I could call her_ , he thought for one insane instant, _or text. Congratulate her on the merger. I'm tired of looking at photos through a screen._

Because god, he wanted to see her again. He wanted to hear that voice filled with excitement as she talked about sweets and cheesy romance novels.

Itachi took out his phone and tapped the screen twice, listlessly watching it come to life. His background was pitch black and plain, so as not to hurt his eyes during times like this. Opening his contacts list, he pressed her name, not letting his doubtful mind stop him.

It rang six times, before—

"Hello," Hinata said sleepily. Itachi shuddered at the sound of her voice in his ear. "Who is this?"

Of course she wouldn't keep his number.

He breathed. Long and deep. And when he spoke, his voice was as steady as it had ever been, "Hey."

There was a long pause, then, "Itachi?"

"... Yes."

Another pause.

"Why are you... it's the middle of the night, Itachi."

"I know. I'm sorry... I just—"

Itachi breathed again, his mind running. He could try again, couldn't he? So many others got second chances, surely he could, too. He'd do it right this time. He'd pay proper attention and love her with everything he had. Hinata didn't deserve his half-hearted affection in the first place.

But for all his genius, he didn't know how to start over again with her. He could barely get words out.

Itachi placed a hand over his face, trying to will himself to calm down.

"Are you okay?" she suddenly asked, tired of waiting for him to speak. The worried lilt in her voice made his grip tighten over the phone.

"I'm at that IHOP downtown," he told her, making sure to take deep, even breaths. "A block away from the fire station. The one with the big sign. I was hoping you'd be up for a little midnight... adventure."

He frowned at the word that left his lips. It felt strange on his tongue, but he didn't take it back. Instead, he waited with bated breath for her to respond.

"I—Itachi?"

"Hm?"

"I... I have a big day tomorrow."

His chest deflated. Always with the polite rejections.

"Maybe sometime next week then?"

"I can't," she refused again. No excuse this time. "It's really late, Itachi. I really do need to go back to be—"

"Wait. Please, Hinata," he muttered, uncharacteristically desperate. "I... I'd like to talk to you in person, so if you could just please consider it."

He could hear her breathe. If he tried, he'd be able to imagine her expression, too. He didn't try though. Itachi wasn't a masochist.

"... I'm sor—"

"Don't apologize," Itachi interrupted. He didn't think he could take it. "Please don't apologize."

"G—good night, Itachi."

And then she was gone.

 _She didn't even wait for me to respond_ , he thought dejectedly, pocketing his phone and staring out at the black expanse above him. No warm hands to grasp his own now. No bubbling laughter to permeate the air or handmade scarves to wrap around his neck. He'd packed the one she'd knitted for him in a small bag with the rest of the few belongings she kept in his house the day her cousin stormed in to take them.

"What now?" he asked the sky.

It didn't answer, fully content to watch him wallow.

Itachi sighed.

Was he even allowed to try again?

* * *

 _A/N: Yo. Fuck this chapter. I needed to write some drama though, haha. Also, typed on my phone. Excuse typos._


	20. Daily Life Snippets

_Disclaimer: I don't own Naruto._

* * *

 **Request by: IkeSy**

 **Three Daily Life Snippets**

* * *

 **ONE (NON-MASSACRE AU)**

* * *

Hinata enjoyed brushing his hair.

Enjoyed it so much that it had become a silent routine when they were both home. At the end of the day, when the village was quiet and there was no overflow of lust between them, Itachi would sit down on his side of the bed after his bath, waiting for Hinata to take her usual seat behind him, brush in hand, ready to smooth out his long strands that he never bothered properly drying.

He didn't know why she liked it so much. Her hair was longer, thicker, and infinitely nicer in comparison. Surely, she'd prefer brushing her own. But to his surprise, she took greater care of his hair. Much greater care. He knew by how gently she'd untangle the knots, how carefully she'd slip her fingers in his bangs to brush them away from his face.

It must've been a Hyuga thing.

They seemed to value their long locks, evident by every single member of her clan. That was why he wanted to see what she would say if he decided to... look more like the rest of his family.

"I'm planning on cutting it," he suddenly declared, hand waving vaguely to the back of his head. "I'm afraid it might get caught on a stray branch when I'm out on missions."

"No!" came the horrified shout from the woman behind him. It was so loud that Itachi winced. But by the time he turned, she was merely blushing and looking down. All traces of disapproval gone from her face. "I... I mean if you want to cut it, then that's okay."

"I don't want to," he corrected. "It's just hazardous."

"But that would be such a waste. Your hair's so long and... pretty."

"Pretty." It wasn't a question. Just a disbelieving reiteration.

"Pretty," she said once more, complete with an enthusiastic nod.

"Unless they're undergoing seduction training, I don't think aesthetics should dictate a ninja's appearance."

"Th-That's true," Hinata said dejectedly after mulling over his words. She fiddled with a strand of her own flowing hair. "Maybe I should cut mine, too?"

"No!" came his own horrified shout. It was sudden and loud enough to startle even him. "I mean," Itachi coughed uncomfortably, "no, never mind. I think I'll keep it."

He wasn't seriously considering cutting it in the first place. But her appreciative smile in the end was worth the brief bout of embarrassment he suffered.

* * *

 **TWO (MODERN AU)**

* * *

Itachi had a tendency to pace when highly upset.

Hinata watched him from the corner of her eye, opting instead to begin dinner, rather than silently stare at him until he mastered himself enough to stop. It wasn't a long wait. Itachi never did have much of a problem getting his thoughts in order. He was so in control of himself that there were times when they were still dating that she questioned his humanity. But then quickly realized that if he wasn't in control, then he'd more than likely be a threat to the purpose of millions of men on this planet—and a father to too many children for even him to support.

When she heard footsteps approaching the kitchen, she knew that he had sorted through whatever it was he was dealing with and would now either talk to her about it or ignore the matter entirely. She had an inkling it would be the latter. He never did like to burden her with talk of his work and overly demanding clients.

 _Unhinged,_ he called them, after she gently prompted him one night to speak about his stresses.

Before she could prepare herself, strong arms wrapped around her middle, swaying with her in two wide strides. One frisky palm slid up to squeeze at the skin just under her breasts, then slid away.

"What are you making?" he asked in that deep, sultry voice of his.

His mood had obviously improved. Not that she was surprised. Itachi's anger was of the self-limiting variety. Give him enough time to cool off on his own, and it ebbed away like the tide across sand.

Grudges, however... those he held close to him.

"Root vegetable stew," she told him, delighted when he pulled her closer.

"Smells delicious."

She smiled at the compliment. His chin moved to rest upon her shoulder. The height difference must've hurt his back, but she didn't mention it.

 _It can't be that bad_ , she decided then. He'd let it go so easy after all. Perhaps it would be okay to ask.

"Itachi," she prompted, turning slightly to shoot him an inquisitive glance. "Is everything okay?"

"Just another unreasonable client making empty threats."

"Were they any good?"

Itachi smirked. "Nothing I haven't heard before."

"You looked angry though."

"His personality leaves much to be desired."

It really did if he could make someone as collected as her husband lose his cool.

"Is he really that bad?" she asked anyway, making sure to do so in her best lighthearted tone. But even that wasn't enough to keep the frown off of his face at the memory of the nameless man.

"I envy those that haven't met him."

Hinata couldn't quite help the spike of concern in her chest when his face clouded over. Her voice was suddenly trapped somewhere in between the tightness of her throat and a swollen emotion she couldn't name. In that moment, all she could think about were words—and how utterly worthless they were in the face of her own sudden, irrational desire to make sure he never made that face again. Those lines that marred his features didn't belong there. Not now. Not with her.

Not knowing what to say, Hinata bumped their heads together for a tick, before reaching up to smooth the wrinkle between his brows with her thumb.

Her reward was a smile, dazzling enough to chase away the image of the faceless man in her mind's eye.

"Did you at least remember to eat lunch?" she asked instead. For both their sakes.

He hummed vaguely in response.

* * *

 **THREE (NON-MASSACRE AU)**

* * *

They hadn't seen each other in over a month.

Not out of choice of course or some random argument—neither were that petty—but because he'd been sent to the land of waves to safeguard some rich heir that paid Konoha triple the usual price. And with a pouch as fat as the one he'd passed to the Hokage, he was given the cream of the crop, or in other words, Uchiha Itachi.

The mission wasn't hard. B, at best. They ran into half a dozen ninjas and a few thugs along the way. Really, it was more the slow pace that made the whole thing unbearable. He had to match the man's average walking speed. While Itachi didn't mind taking his time on missions, this was different. This had been suddenly thrust on him in the middle of his honeymoon because the Hokage was a damn sucker for money. Itachi swore that as soon as he got back, he'd demand an extension for his lost vacation days. Paid.

All he wanted to do was stay home and spend quality time with his new wife. In peace. Was that so much to ask for?

Apparently it was.

Since he was still forced into going.

Thankfully, his charge wasn't the snobbish sort like he had expected him to be. The man didn't complain often, and when he did, it was typically due to an unusual discomfort that even Itachi found aggravating. Like entire paths covered in mud or the smell of some dead, unfinished lunch left behind by an already full predator.

He was... tolerable. For a noble anyway. Even if he did ask a disturbing amount of questions about his private life.

But hours after he returned home, he thought that perhaps he'd been too hasty. That he should've fixed his appearance more before rushing to see her.

"You've gotten paler," Itachi noticed, pressing the pads of his fingers to her cheek in an effort to distract her scrutinizing eyes. "Did you go somewhere cold while I was gone?"

Though he already knew the answer. The purple scarf she liked to bring with her on missions to the land of snow was folded neatly on the counter after all. The Hokage was a damn slave driver.

"Oh, stop it," she said, gently brushing his fingers away. As she began fussing over his clothes. He didn't know what she found, but his wife always managed to notice the tiniest details about him. "You've been skipping meals again, haven't you? You're thinner. The doctor said that if you were going to up your training regimen, then you needed to eat more, regardless if you were hungry or not."

He hummed ambiguously.

"Are you listening to me, Itachi?"

"Of course."

She made a disgruntled noise in the back of her throat. "I'm going to make an early dinner, okay? Make sure you wash up properly."

And then she was gone.

He heard the stove turn on, followed by the high-pitched clink of something being placed on top of it.

Itachi smiled to himself. She was already starting to sound like an old, nagging wife. Any other day, Itachi would've just sighed and reluctantly followed her words. But he'd just gotten back, so he trailed after her into the kitchen instead, reveling in the way she squeaked when his arms wrapped around her waist from behind.

"I—Itachi," she called, breathless.

He buried his face in her shoulder, kissing the soft flesh.

"I'm back, Hinata," he whispered, hating how much like an overgrown child he felt. He wanted her attention. Nothing more. This was the best way to get it.

Itachi knew she wouldn't turn him away. That was only proven when she slumped against him. Warm and soft and _his_. Itachi's stomach heated in delight at having her so close once again. She was near enough to make his chest swell.

"Welcome home," she whispered back.

And he kissed her.

* * *

 _A/N: I could make so many excursions if this was a multi-chapter fic. I have so many ideas for outside missions that I basically just sum up in shorts to give the whole thing some relevant background. But... oh well. Does anyone know any ItaHina Non-Massacre AUs where they actually go on missions outside the village and the missions are detailed and whatnot, instead of the fic just being focused entirely on clan politics and confined to the village?_ _ **Let me know if you do please!**_

 _._

 _._

 _Please Review._


	21. Love?

_Disclaimer: I don't own Naruto._

* * *

 **Modern AU Setting**

* * *

Hinata was drunk.

Drunk and pressed up against him in a way that made it hard to keep his composure.

A pair of enormous, creamy breasts were shoved against his chest, of which he had a clear view of topside due to their height difference. Her hands rested on the wide planes of his shoulders, soft legs curled and pressed against his thighs, as she sat in his lap.

Her face was red. Cloudy. Not with lust, but with intoxicated relaxation.

He wouldn't take advantage of her.

"You're so warm," she declared, shifting closer.

 _He wouldn't._

"Itachi," she said, gasping.

There was something about the way Hinata said his name then. Groggy, breathless, and entirely too drawn out. It made him feel as though everyone had been saying it wrong his entire life.

He swallowed when she pressed her face into his neck. "... What?"

Nipping his collarbone was her answer.

Uchiha Itachi was many things. A businessman. A genius. A philanthropist. Saint, however, was definitely not among them.

Really, it was time he stopped acting like one.

But before his hands could even move, he swore he felt the pinching fingers of his mother on the back of his neck warning him to behave. Itachi groaned. Uchiha Mikoto had many faults, but she at least pounded how to properly treat a woman into their heads.

 _Sober consent is important,_ she told them repeatedly, _and I want no bastards from either of you running around. You will_ not _cause a scandal because you couldn't control your urges. Neither will you ever get yourselves into such a state of inebriation that women can take advantage of y—_

Why was he making himself relive this?

Itachi wrapped his arms around her in preference, his head falling into the crook of her neck. He inhaled deeply, reveling in her lavender scent. It startled her, he knew, but he ignored it in favor of bringing her closer to him, hiding her voluptuous body from any wandering eyes and keeping her safe in his arms.

"I—Itachi!" she yelled, pushing him away to look at him.

 _Oh, so now she's being shy?_ Itachi sighed, spreading warm breath over her skin, making her push even harder. Only after a long minute of deliberation did he finally oblige.

And what he saw took his breath away.

Light caught in her orbs. Twinkling. Hopeful. Hesitant. Whatever smart remark he had for her vanished with an inhale, and suddenly, the rest of the world no longer mattered. Perhaps it never did.

Love was such a peculiar thing. He could hardly handle the enormity crammed into the word. It was overwhelming, like a flood of sunshine after a long night; yet, it was small as well. As if the stars had all been packed into one person to shower them in brilliance.

 _Wait._

His thoughts came to a screeching halt, as he watched her tilt her head at him. Her hands were on his cheeks now, rubbing idly over his bones in a sweet caress. She was saying something, but his ears weren't cooperating. Because...

Sure, they'd been seeing each other for a few months, but—

 _Love?_

Hinata smiled adoringly at him.

"Why not?" he muttered, thoroughly confusing her, before he claimed her lips with his own.

* * *

 _A/N: Please Review._


	22. Thank You

_Disclaimer: I don't own Naruto._

* * *

 _ **Request by: TAYYABALARAIB (Hinata dies before Itachi. Her final moments with him.)**_

* * *

People died every day.

Really, Itachi would know. As an ANBU, as a ninja—no, as a man born to a clan as bloody as the Uchiha—how could he not?

He couldn't escape the topic. When someone passed away, it was gossiped about in the streets by civilians. Everyone wanted to know what happened, how, why, and what came next. Even by ninjas, death was tossed around like nothing. The wiser ones in his profession, those with more tact and more decency, avoided the subject when possible, but those younger, those with something to prove talked about it openly.

They went into gruesome detail about how exactly they'd maim their target. Some even went so far as to count their kills; either to boast or to atone in some way. Itachi didn't. Though he used to. He did so when he was young, engraving the number to memory. But when the number had grown too terrifying, he forced himself to stop—it had reached 87 by the time he became a jonin. He'd been 10 then.

Now approaching 29, he didn't even want an estimate.

Itachi was a trained killer, and he used those skills the way they were meant to be used... in awful ways. He'd offed people in every fashion imaginable. Quick and effortless, like his blade slashing diagonally across a man's face. Slow and painful, like the poisons he favored when he needed to get a rise out of the enemy. It blackened lungs and crippled movement, until his targets were left frothing at the mouth and bleeding through their eyes. He'd even managed painless, somehow. By trapping a man he'd once considered an ally in a deep sleep, before ending him and leaving him on the floor in a puddle of his own blood.

He'd massacred enough to know the exact shades their skin turned as they lost their vitality, to tell at a glance when it would just be better to kill someone immediately rather than prolong their suffering. He could even accurately guess where someone had been sliced based on the loudness of the scream that ripped through their throats.

Hardly anything could surprise him anymore. The last time he'd been caught off guard was when members of his cell had their blood painted on the walls in an underground basement. Heinous sacrifices to a heinous god.

In the face of _this_ , however...

He was just left staring.

Because for all of his strength, for all of his genius, why couldn't he save her?

* * *

The cause had been a civilian.

Nothing more.

Some petty thief that shouldn't have posed a problem in the first place. But he did. His wife had been tired. And exhaustion, coupled with an innate kindness towards those less fortunate, bred nothing but negligence.

When the thief procured a stake of cracked wood from the row of poor houses he'd been thrown against, Itachi, having arrived late to the scene, only had time to shield a passing boy in the way—a no-name he'd happily die to protect—but fate had other games in store. Games of sorrow that forced time to still. As he turned to find the stake embedded in the chest of another. Someone far dearer to him than life itself.

"Hinata," Itachi whispered. His breath hitched, and though he saw it happen, his mind hadn't fully registered the action.

Hinata tilted her head just enough to look at him. A glance that lasted for no more than a second, before she touched the stake, and with incredible strength, chipped a piece of it in half. Only to embed it into the shoulder of the frightened thief responsible for her injury. The no name man fell on his butt, screaming. Still not dead.

That wasn't right.

Before Itachi could even register, his eyes spun red. More out of instinct, than real fury... and then the man was silent. The world halted, as another number was added to his unknown sum.

But when Hinata fell forward, time began again. The boy in his hold screeched, pushing him away and running into the unknown distance. The rain began to pour over his already drenched clothes. The winds howled, chilling him to the bone.

He hated all of it.

The skies did nothing but spread drear over a place that didn't need any more.

 _This was it_ , a part of him realized, numb to it all. This was how it would end. Face down on the ground in some nameless place with the scent of iron strong in the air. _Lifeless and without glory._

He'd seen death, he knew how it looked when—

Those eyes he loved so much suddenly shifted, and Itachi bit back a curse.

 _No._

"Hinata," Itachi called, trembling, as he grasped her small shoulders.

"I... Itachi," she muttered back.

Her breaths were slow by his ear, and slowing more by the second. He barely registered a nearby barmaid, short and thin with long dark hair, shakily running off in search of a doctor. Hinata watched the woman go, grasping out like she thought she was someone else. Itachi stilled her hand, harshly ordering her to cease her actions. To not waste her energy.

His mind, still analytical, despite the unbearable ache in his chest.

He'd copied so many jutsu. Some so obscure that even ninjas that fancied themselves scholars had been surprised by what he showed them. He'd even copied medical ones. Which his lightning fast mind tore through in an instant. Efficient, even in his desperation. As he tried to find one that could save her.

Itachi almost screamed in despair when he realized just how many could.

Though they were far beyond his capacity to perform. Maybe... if he had time. A day? Two? Hell, _six_ hours. He could learn them. He was sure of it. He could bring himself up to the necessary level and... and...

That was too fucking late.

In his current state, the success of such a procedure would be low—most bordering on less than two percent, he reckoned. But he was Uchiha Itachi, and he could try. He _would_ try. But as his hand glowed green, lighting up the soft contours of her graying face, he already knew that there was no chance. That a lethal area much too close to her heart had been stabbed, and if he even attempted a procedure, all he'd do was smother her final moments.

This was the sort of fatality only the likes of Senju Tsunade could heal. The only reason Hinata was still with him was through miracle alone.

He had an inkling that she knew it, too.

That didn't stop him from biting his lip and screaming at his summon to find the woman.

"I—Itachi," Hinata suddenly tried her best to call. It was a mere whisper amidst the squall descending upon them, but he heard it. "... Are you okay?"

His grip tightened, his face morphing into an awful snarl.

"I'm _frustratingly_ okay, Hinata," he said, struggling for composure. "Just... wait. I'll find a way to properly move you, okay? I don't think I can right now. You're—"

"That's good," she interrupted, ignoring everything else he said after his initial answer.

She looked like she wanted to say more, but the words ended in a cough instead. Blood flecked over her lips. She felt numb, the world was fading, and her vision was worsening with each passing second—the deep red eyes she loved were beginning to blur—until she no longer knew if what she saw was real or merely a memory.

"Listen to me," he mumbled, dragging her closer. Gently. Up to his chest where she sighed in unfeeling content. "Hold on. Please."

"I... I'll try."

 _No, not try. Promise me you will! You will hold on!_ he wanted to shout, but bit his tongue, not wanting to hurt her with his voice.

A moment passed like that. The rain kept her blood wet. It swirled in the water. Tendrils that tainted, twisted in and out, and unfurled like petals. But the way her blood curled wasn't as beautiful as flowers. It wasn't wondrous or terrifying or melancholic.

It was just red.

And the smell was so strong, he could taste rust in his mouth.

He knew what came next. Itachi _knew—_ the struggling gasps, the ashen skin, the numbing senses _—_ and that made it all the more unbearable.

Itachi bent over her, trying to shield her from the rest of the world. Even as profanity danced along the tip of his tongue when Hinata's eyes kept closing. Each time longer than the last. She blinked away the heavy dregs of sleep almost like an afterthought.

How long, he wondered, until she forgot to?

"... Does... Does it hurt?" he asked, not quite knowing why he did. Perhaps it was to make sure she could still speak. To see if death was still being kind to him for reasons unknown. To reassure himself that she wasn't living her final moments suffering because he'd been half a second too slow. And... deep down, his naturally inquisitive mind wanted to know. A sort of morbid curiosity.

Her breathing stilled for a moment, and Itachi couldn't fully contain the rise of panic that burned his blood.

"It doesn't," she finally answered.

The silence that settled over them was deafening.

Her lack of feeling was a sign of life slipping, he knew. And though she did her best to smile up at him, her eyelids drooped even lower. Her hands were limp by her side at this point. Itachi squeezed her to his frame. As if that would piece her back together again. She didn't complain when the plank of wood delved just a little deeper, stretching her wound—she couldn't. Not anymore. Her throat had gone dry.

"A little longer, Hinata," Itachi whispered, pleading. "Please."

She didn't reply, afraid it would be little more than a gasp against his skin, afraid she'd exhale blood over someone who was already bathed in so much of it. But, in the end, she still tried to. Because Itachi was waiting for a response... and she never liked to keep him waiting.

Her mouth tilted upward, trying to form his name.

But her fears gave way to reality.

A cough escaped her mouth. She was already too weak to stop it, and before she could register, blood spilled over her dear husband's skin. In areas she never wanted to see her blood spilt. It was deep and black over stark white. The sort of crawling darkness only he was allowed when he donned his ANBU gear in the middle of the night and whispered his farewells in her hair.

Itachi noticed her fright, but he didn't seem to mind. Perhaps that was the scariest thing of all. That he just stood there, unconcerned, despite the flecks of blood over his pale skin. Was he panicking in his mind? Hinata hoped he wasn't. But that mask of his was in place, making it impossible for her to tell. It would surely slip soon. She just hoped that he wasn't alone when it did.

"Do you remember," Itachi suddenly began, trying to distract himself from her blood on his skin. As if that had ever worked before—even when he was bathed in the blood of strangers, he couldn't take his mind off of it. But he had to try. "When I fell asleep for the first time in four days after my ANBU cell was slaughtered and when I awoke, all you did was push a plate of food towards me?"

She didn't answer.

"Or when you rubbed salve on my wounds after I refused to go to a hospital because of all the squealing women?"

God, why wasn't she answering?

"I loved that you know." He exhaled. "I love you."

 _I love you, too,_ was her unspoken reply.

Hinata tried once again to open her mouth, to reassure him properly. She wanted to believe that she mouthed the words, to believe that she spelled each one lovingly out with her lips, though she wasn't fully sure if she was able to. But his eyes watched her with such rapt interest that it felt like she did.

 _She isn't moving_ , Itachi thought, feeling like a slow, ignorant child. That was new. _Why isn't she moving?_

"Itachi," Hinata breathed against him.

He squeezed her tighter. As tight as his arms would allow. Where was his summon? Was he close? Did something happen? Was Tsunade even on her way? He hoped so. Itachi wanted to go himself, knowing he'd be faster. But he couldn't just leave Hinata here. Cold and alone. His conscience—the blighted thing, showing up only during the worst of times—wouldn't allow it.

He could send a clone, but he didn't want to put a piece of himself through that. Didn't want any part of him away from her. Not when Itachi knew what was about to happen.

"Don't leave me," he cried desperately.

All things considered, Hinata thought she had a good life. It wasn't ideal. She could have had a better childhood, but what ninja couldn't? Her first decade had been rough. Along with the few years when puberty was kicking in. But then after a few more, she'd gotten enough confidence to hold her own, gotten a husband to call hers; one that she loved dearly and without restraint.

One that loved her back.

Itachi was strong. He'd be alright. Soon. Given time, patience, and a nudge of guidance. Once he allowed his steely composure to crumble into nothing and break down in tears, he'd wake feeling empty, but renewed. He _would._ Because she knew him—enough to also know that he might never love another woman again. It was at that moment that she wished that she at least left him with a child to keep him company throughout the years he'd be spending without her.

But she didn't want to think about that now.

Hinata was proud of herself. She didn't want to dwell over the ' _ifs.'_ Many died having accomplished less.

She squeezed him back then... she tried to.

She failed.

In the distance, she watched a blond-headed blur and a pack of people in white running towards her. Medics, perhaps? Itachi didn't relinquish his hold, even as they neared.

Her vision was blurry and their surroundings were gray from the rain, but she'd never forget that look of conflicted desperation that decorated her husband's face. It was the same one she'd unwittingly fallen in love with.

She felt something warm against her chest. And she wondered for a moment if Itachi would take her away, trap her in a second-long genjutsu where they'd live their lives together. Perhaps he'd even lock her soul away—keep it for himself. He must've known some kind of jutsu that could do such a thing. She'd happily give it to him for safe keeping. Hinata didn't want to be parted from him. Not now. Not ever.

She wanted to tell him that she'd agree to whatever he decided to do with her body, that he needed to take care of himself—eat properly, get enough sleep, don't walk under the rain—to relish in the presence of those he loved and cared for, and most of all, to find reasons to laugh.

"Thank you," Hinata muttered instead. It was barely a whisper. "Thank you isn't enough."

Itachi stiffened in her arms. The last thing she felt, before she was enveloped in black.

* * *

 _A/N: This was the final request on my to-do list. **A big thanks to those that gave tumblr prompts, made requests for this fic, and ordered my fantasy and poetry books! You guys are wonderful!** I appreciate the support. I'll be writing my own shorts for a bit. Keep an eye on my author's notes for when I open requests again._

 _ **To Guest:**_ _I read one of Darth-Taisha's fics before. It wasn't my cup of tea. Her writing just didn't click with me, which is perfectly okay. Can't please everyone. Regarding PMing her, contacting an author that took their fanfic down makes me reluctant to message them about their stories. But thanks for the recommendation. It's appreciated. ( ' v ' )/_

 _._

 _._

 _Please Review._


	23. Nudge

_Disclaimer: I don't own Naruto._

* * *

 _ **MODERN AU**_

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Of all the women with delusions to his level of interest, this one was the worst.

Throughout his admittedly short life, Itachi had met a great number of drop-dead gorgeous women. They were attracted to him like a colony of ants to a stray piece of fruit, but instead of helping each other pick apart and drag the prize back to whatever circle of hell they'd spawned from, they fought over him with catty remarks and vicious smiles. It amused him when he was younger to see such striking women fighting over him like children over a new toy.

It was one of his more vile teenage pastimes. One his mother had pinched his ear for whenever she found him nestled in a corner, smirking at their antics. Back then, he didn't think he would ever tire of women fighting over him.

Oh, how wrong he was.

Not even a few months after, the novelty of being desired in such a manner had lost its appeal. It had become more of a nuisance than every man's dream once he realized just how troublesome it was to be hounded by strangers he hardly even remembered the faces of, to be dragged into pregnancy scandals and accused of sexual harassment—all of which prompted dozens of lectures from his mother even when he assured her that he'd done nothing of the sort.

Still, their beauty was nothing to be scoffed at. It was of such a degree as to be considered otherworldly, and though some required a bit more makeup than others, that didn't change the fact that any man or woman would be lucky to have them on their arm. While Itachi couldn't deny that their attention was a major stroke to his ego, he was annoyed by the one simple fact that they somehow—without fail—believed him one hundred percent invested in them simply because they had a pretty face. Yes, they could break million dollar homes and cripple corporations with their lips alone, and yes, if they batted their eyelashes the right way, they'd be able to snag themselves CEOs, rich heirs, and aging rock stars, but that didn't mean he felt any particular emotion about them... sans lust, of course.

Itachi had also met less beautiful, but much smarter women. Those with flawless educations. They were the perfect balance between brains and beauty, and he was sure that they'd make nigh perfect wives. Perhaps even business partners, seeing as how some had gone on to amass great fortunes of their own. But in the end, they proved themselves to be much like the last group. No, they were even worse. They thought themselves superior, and thus more deserving of his attention simply because they had the ability to hold what they considered an intelligent conversation.

As if a basic human skill was something to write home about.

And in between all of those he met were the everyday women with no fortune, average intelligence, and mediocre looks. They didn't think him overly interested, but neither did they stop themselves from spreading inflated rumors to their friends and everyone in the immediate vicinity about his _secret interest_ if he so much as accidentally looked at them.

They were all the same.

The Hyuga heiress, however, was the damning opposite.

She, or someone close to her, had somehow convinced her that he wasn't at all interested. And when he tried to change that, she had taken his sudden closeness as a desire for friendship.

Friendship.

 _Fucking_ friendship.

Uchiha Itachi did not get friend zoned.

All he had to do was blink and multiple pairs of legs would open for him. He knew exactly what to do, exactly which moves to make to turn even the coolest of ice queens into affectionate, willing kittens in his arms—and he did them all.

And _still_ , she had given him that same polite smile.

It was infuriating.

Was she that blind? Couldn't she see that he wanted to be more? He knew he needed help, but the thought of asking anyone for advice just made him reel back in horror because surely, he'd get teased endlessly first. His friends were bastards like that.

Running his hands through his hair in a rare display of frustration, he leaned against his desk and just... thought.

Perhaps just being straightforward with her was best after all. Hinata seemed like the type that wouldn't truly understand when someone was seriously trying to court her unless they just dropped all pretenses and said it right to her face. Even some actions left room for doubt. It was better to be as unambiguous as possible.

Resolving himself to just call, ask her out to dinner, and then confess in the plainest terms possible, Itachi began to reach for his phone, but stopped when the woman he'd just been agonizing over came rushing through his door. His secretary's shouts followed her inside.

"You," Hinata panted, and he couldn't help his eyes from roaming over her frazzled state. She was lovely. "You talked to my father about marrying me?!"

His eyes widened almost imperceptibly. Well, this was a surprise. Mostly because no... no, he hadn't. Marriage was a leap too far. Especially considering he'd only just gotten the nerve to properly ask her out not even ten seconds ago. Never mind going to Hyuga Hiashi of all people. The man was colder than an ice cube, and just as biting when it came to his daughters.

Someone has obviously lied to her.

Itachi peeked behind her to see Shisui mouthing, _'You're welcome_. _'_

It wasn't as if he didn't see the advantage in this sudden turn of events. This gave him the chance to apologize for Shisui's lie. Preferably in the form of a quiet, candlelit dinner for two. But what exactly Itachi should've been grateful for eluded him, seeing as how he was planning on asking her out whether Shisui meddled or not. Now if things worked out between them—and he knew they would—he had a sinking feeling that his cousin would be asking for a new car this Christmas. The kind with a price tag high enough to even make his spendthrift brother throw a hissy fit.

Well, not that it mattered now. He'd deal with his cousin later. When Hinata wasn't in front of him, red-faced and stubbornly staring at the length of floor between them.

"Ms. Hyuga," he called.

She looked up, meeting his eyes for the briefest of moments. But it was long enough for her blush to deepen and light up everything from her chest to her ears. Flustered looked good on her.

Itachi smirked, delighted.

That was more like it.

This, he could work with.

* * *

 _A/N: Another chapter typed on my phone. Excuse typos. Requests closed. **If you want to support me and my writing by buying my novels or just want info, check out my author blog. URL on profile.**_

 _Please Review._


	24. Whoops! (Part 2)

_Disclaimer: I don't own Naruto._

* * *

 _ **Written due to popular demand – Sasuke avoiding Itachi after Chapter 14: Whoops!**_

 _ **Sasuke's POV**_

* * *

His father was out to get him.

Sasuke had always known that his father was disappointed in him due to his lack of what he dubbed, _Itachi-esque_ genius. Fugaku compared him to Itachi so much that it had made him incredibly resentful growing up—it still did, though finding support from his always kind brother and making bonds outside of the clan that helped him had somewhat curbed the festering hate. Even if it didn't stop his unspoken desire to gain his father's approval. But he didn't actually think his father would do something that could very well end with him dead. In their home no less.

Never mind that his father didn't know he might actually die.

His ignorance on the matter was entirely, _entirely_ unforgivable!

Why in the world did his father suddenly want to have a family dinner in the first place? He knew his mother hadn't put him up to it because Mikoto was too busy forcing her will upon the elders of the Hyuga council regarding Itachi and Hinata's wedding. And his mother always made sure to give him a few days advanced notice, so he could clear his schedule. His father, however, expected them to drop all plans and just... show up.

While Sasuke didn't usually have a problem with his father's overly demanding nature, he _did_ have a problem with seeing Itachi a mere two days after that incident in his apartment where he'd stumbled upon Hinata shoved against a wall, her mouth open in a silent whine. So urgent was her need that her kimono had only been half-undone. Hinata had a look of utter intoxication on her face that Sasuke just couldn't shake. She was embedded in his mind at this point.

He remembered the way her body curved, how her shapely legs wrapped tightly around his brother's—

 _Sage, save me._

Sasuke shook his head to rid himself of the thoughts of his brother grunting, hilt deep inside—

 _Fuck no._

He ran his hands through his hair. So abrupt and so violent that the people in the street around him stopped to stare. It had been two days. _Only_ two days. And Sasuke was already losing his mind in fear. He hadn't seen Itachi yet, and made it a point to stay away from all of his usual haunts. He also stuck around Naruto more often, knowing that if he was alone, Itachi would undoubtedly appear.

Somehow, he just _knew_ that Itachi was taking his time, debating how best to maim him for stumbling upon that particular sight. Hell, his brother was probably watching him from a distance, smirking at the fact that just the thought of his retribution made Sasuke squirm in apprehension.

So, again, _why_ did his father suddenly invite them all for a family dinner? Was this all part of Itachi's elaborate plan? It's not like he purposely _meant_ to find them like that. Sure, maybe he should've knocked or at the very least informed Itachi that he'd be dropping by, but what was the point of giving him a key if he couldn't just step in unannounced?

It was an accident.

He shouldn't be punished for a damn accident!

But even his imminent doom wasn't enough to stop the feelings of not wanting to disappoint his father. So, against his better judgment, there he was—at his family home, seated at the dinner table and watching the front door with guarded eyes. He had purposely remained in his ninja clothes, despite the disapproving glances his mother shot him from the kitchen.

Sasuke was prepared to run at the first sign of trouble. Forget proper manners. They weren't useful to him dead.

His father was seated at the head of the table. Mikoto would sit to his left, Itachi to his right, and Sasuke—usually—beside Itachi. Tonight, however, he'd opted to occupy the empty seat beside Mikoto instead. It was where he'd usually sit when Hinata was over, and Sasuke made sure to walk over as nonchalantly as possible, so his father wouldn't question the sudden change. Sasuke was a man of routine when it came to certain things, like the color of his toothbrush or the way he folded his socks. Any break from that without proper reason was bound to arouse suspicion. It didn't help that he vividly remembered himself throwing tantrums when he was younger whenever the seat beside his brother was occupied by Shisui or some other house guest.

But if asked, he could chock it up to age or forgetfulness... or the excuse that Itachi might bring Hinata along.

 _Fat chance,_ Sasuke thought. He'd be lucky if Itachi would even let him catch a glimpse of the woman while he was in the village. Not that it mattered. _I can always catch her when Itachi's out on missions_. The thought made him smirk. He knew that drove Itachi absolutely mad.

All of his smug confidence immediately evaporated, however, when the front door suddenly opened and Itachi stepped inside.

There was a greeting from the kitchen that his brother acknowledged with a nod, before moving to take his shoes off. Itachi was dressed in his regular black cotton pants and shirt. Clearly off duty. Not that his relatively unthreatening appearance mattered. Sasuke's back still straightened at the sight of him. It was so noticeable that his father glanced at him questioningly. But Sasuke kept his gaze fixed firmly on Itachi's back, as he took off his shoes.

Sasuke's mouth was drawn into a thin line, prepared to bolt should his brother decide to make a move.

But to his surprise, the move never came.

Itachi took his usual seat, gave his usual greeting, even met Sasuke's eyes with the usual faux indifference. Somehow, his utter dismissal of the incident made Sasuke all the more wary. There was no way he was just letting it go. This was definitely a trick! Some strategy to make him let down his guard, so he could surprise him.

Sasuke tapped his fingers nervously on his knees, as his father and brother got into a deep discussion regarding the police force and some ninja they'd apprehended a week ago. Basic and uninteresting. Hardly worth his time. He only paid enough attention to answer when his opinion was asked for and to know why his father had called them for this impromptu dinner—to inform them of a few changes to the clan's schedule, as it turned out. Sasuke apparently needed to begin attending marriage meetings now that Itachi was officially off the market. But he'd worry about that when the time came.

For now, Itachi was the bigger concern.

But even as dinner was served and they all settled to eat their meals, Itachi was still the same quiet, stoic Itachi. It was enough to make him grip his knees until his knuckles turned white. His strange demeanor certainly didn't go unnoticed. Because just as dinner was ending, his mother turned to him with a worried look in her eye.

"Sasuke," she called, loud enough to bring everyone's attention to him. "What's the matter?"

He briefly met Itachi's suddenly menacing glare and gulped. That was the ' _watch-your-words-or-risk-losing-your-tongue'_ look. It was unforgiving in its intensity.

Mikoto, always observant, noticed the exchange, even as Itachi took a nonchalant sip of his tea to hide his glare.

"Are you two fighting?" Mikoto continued, her tone disapproving.

"Of course not," Itachi immediately denied.

"Don't lie to your mother," came Fugaku's rebuttal.

"We aren't fighting," Itachi assured once more. He looked unflinchingly into Fugaku's eyes in a way only he was able to.

"Then what's wrong, Sasuke?" Mikoto prompted again.

An image of Itachi buried in Hinata immediately came to mind, before he blushed furiously and downed the hot tea in front of him.

When Sasuke remained stubbornly silent, Itachi opened his mouth to say something in their collective defense once more. But fuck if he didn't think about that scarring pleasured groan that left Itachi's lips two nights ago whenever he spoke. It was enough to overload his brain and make his nerves finally go haywire.

"Sasuke's just—"

"Itachi's sleeping with Hinata!" Sasuke blurted out, interrupting his older brother. As soon as the words left his lips, he covered his mouth with his hands. Like he was eight years old again and just told his mother that he saw Itachi make a girl cry with another one of his famously cold rejections.

Profound silence washed over the dining room.

Fugaku's chopsticks dropped with a clank.

Mikoto faltered.

Itachi's glare suddenly hardened. The expensive teacup in his hand cracked from the sheer pressure of his grip. The line of his jaw looked so strict that Sasuke was reminded of their father, who ever so slowly, turned his head toward his eldest son. There was discomfort in his face and in his eyes, but beneath that was a tempered fury. Itachi was about to get reprimanded, and if Sasuke was afraid before, then he was terrified now.

He was definitely going to be shoved into some awful genjutsu after this.

"You're... what?" Fugaku asked, at the same time Mikoto squealed, _"Grandchildren!"_

Itachi didn't even bother gracing them with a response. Without turning his head, his eyes shifted toward Sasuke creepily. They were a bloody red.

"Sasuke," he called.

The last thing Sasuke noted before breaking out into a run wasn't his mother's pleased smile or his father's put-off grimace, but Itachi... already at his back, ponytail swishing behind him. He went after him with an insane speed that Sasuke never seemed to be able to match. No matter how much he trained.

Sasuke was able to reach the Uchiha gates. Though he had a sinking feeling Itachi only let him get that far because he wanted to put some distance between them and their parents' house. Hopefully he'd let him go for just a bit longer. Sasuke already knew exactly what he needed to do. He'd have to head to the more crowded parts of the village, preferably the shopping districts, where many young women roamed the streets. Surely, their squeals would prove distracting enough for him to run away. And if they didn't, he'd just have to suffer a few hours in their _safe_ company until itachi was called away—by his fellow ANBU or by his fiancée didn't matter. He was a busy man. He was _always_ called away.

As Sasuke was turning, he chanced another glance back, wondering just how close his brother was.

What he saw made his stomach drop to his feet.

Itachi was _right_ there.

His face perfectly stoic. His eyes bleeding red.

Sasuke gulped when one perfectly manicured hand stretched out, nearly crushing his shoulder. Only for the pain to lift. The pressure of his grip eased, then turned into a dull ache. He'd definitely have a bruise tomorrow. Sasuke's eyes widened, as Itachi raised his other hand. Extending two fingers, he poked his forehead with enough force to make him reel back.

"Foolish little brother," Itachi said, stepping back and sighing. He crossed his arms and stared at him. Aloof, yet fond. It made Sasuke feel as warm as it always did, and just for a moment, he forgot all about that little incident that had been seared into his mind for the last two days. "Why must you complicate things so much?"

"W—What..." Sasuke trailed off, rubbing his forehead. Happy, relieved, and utterly exhausted from the scare. Still, he kept his knees bent, prepared to run should Itachi suddenly decide to strike. "You're not going to..."

"To what?" Itachi asked, lifting a brow. "Punish you?"

Sasuke nodded ever so slightly.

"Why would I?" Itachi smirked. "You got a glimpse of what could have been yours if you had just paid attention, had just attended one marriage meeting, had just—need I go on? Isn't that glimpse punishment enough?"

Sasuke gaped.

Itachi only turned, waving a hand back to beckon him. "Come, Sasuke. Once I sit through father's lecture about honor and abstinence, _you're_ going to sit down and explain to them exactly how you knew about me and Hinata, then explain to mother why grandchildren will just have to wait."

Sasuke closed his jaw. A grimace quickly replaced his shocked features.

"You..."

The sentence was left to hang, as Itachi turned his head just enough so that he could see his eyes that were just daring him to finish that sentence.

"What?" Itachi asked.

Sasuke gulped.

"N—Nothing."

* * *

 _A/N: We just hit 100 faves. That's wassup._

 _ **If you want to support me and my writing by buying my novels or if you just want some info, then check out my author blog. The URL is on my profile.**_

* * *

 _ **To K**_ _: Darth-Taisha was one of the OG ItaHina writers here on FF, so she gets a lotta rep for that. She does write well though and I'm glad so many have enjoyed her works, but her writing style just didn't click with me. I'm not sure why either. I've read Dreamcatcher. The short chapters are off-putting, but it was good. Distractions was good, too. The setting of that was really interesting._ _ **If you're on the hunt for ItaHina, I personally enjoyed: Divinity (by tranquilwriter), Bulletproof Love (by naturally morbid), As Far As Innocence Goes (by Zwei Shonagon), The Open Plain (by ssapientia).**_


	25. Allure

_Disclaimer: I don't own Naruto._

* * *

 ** _Random Ninja's POV_**

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"That man is the most infuriating—"

"I _told_ you, Aya—"

"—cold-hearted—"

"He's an Uchiha, and you know how they are—"

"—difficult—"

"Not just that, he's the Uchiha _heir—_ "

"—attractive—"

"Are you _still_ saying that—"

"—frigid man I have _ever_ met."

Ikose sighed with tragedy at his partner's hard head. Ever since they were genin, she'd been the most stubborn one in their three-man cell. She never knew when to give up, and that extended to the men she chased. But now that they were full-fledged Chunin (and were currently preparing to take the Jonin exams at the end of the year), she'd grown into her body and had become a lot bolder. While he was glad that she was confident in herself, Aya had the tendency to go after men that were _ridiculously_ out of her league.

Sure, she was pretty, but not _belongs-on-the-arm-of-a-future-clan-head_ pretty. She was nowhere near what could be considered ninja "nobility." Far from it, in fact. Aya was a second generation ninja. Her father being the first ninja in her previously all-civilian family. She'd done well for herself. As her teammate, he was proud of her. As a fellow ninja, he recognized her skills. As her friend, he thought she was a damn idiot.

They, along with a three-man group from their home-village of Kiri, were sent to meet up with a few Konoha ninja in an extremely rare collaboration mission that would last three months. They'd be guarding diplomats from their respective nations. Clan heads and heirs were also among the ninjas sent, so any deals hammered out would also have the interests of the village's ninjas in mind. The other three-man group they arrived with were composed of one clan head and two heiresses; while Konoha had two Uchiha males—one being the Uchiha heir, himself. The weather had apparently been spotty, so their other group had yet to arrive... and that was why they were all here now, camping outside in the cold.

But truthfully, Ikose was just glad to be there. Neither Ikose, nor Aya heard much about the intricacies of politics—let alone clan politics—so this was all extremely new to them. They were still fledgling ninjas in the eyes of all those around them, but Ikose didn't mind if they found him lacking in some areas. He was here to do his job and learn. Besides, to be sent on such an important mission looked good on his records. There was no way he was going to mess this up. This was considered A-class.

He noticed early on that Konoha's diplomat was especially skittish. The man jumped at the slightest of sounds, his spectacles practically falling off of his face whenever he did so. It was no wonder he needed such absurdly powerful escorts. _Two_ Uchihas?—and _more_ ninjas on the way. There was a limit to how much manpower you needed.

Ikose blew a breath of warm air into his hands, before huddling closer to the fire before him. The diplomats had begun going over their own individual notes, while the ninjas had taken to either talking amongst themselves or crossing their arms and waiting patiently for Konoha's final group to arrive. None had bothered to mingle. That only went to show just how hotly the blood between the two villages ran.

Aya, however, was the grand exception.

As soon as they'd settled, she'd approached the Uchiha heir, her sashaying hips watched by all... only to be shut down with a quiet word and a cold stare. The other one, Uchiha Shisui, even had the audacity to laugh when her face heated in embarrassment. Personally, Ikose thought she would've had a better chance with Shisui, mainly because he seemed more outgoing in general. But Aya always had a thing for long hair, and who was he to dictate her preferences.

"I can't believe he shot me down!" Aya whispered harshly, not realizing that she was still talking loud enough for those in the clearing to hear.

"I thought you liked challenges," Ikose said.

"He told me he wasn't interested in speaking to me," she whined, warming her hands by the fire.

"At least he was honest."

"We're going to be around each other for _three_ months. Inside and outside of meetings. He could at least _try_ to be civil."

"He's a clan heir, Aya," Ikose said, trying to cheer her up. "An ANBU Captain and considered one of Konoha's geniuses. I heard they were considering him for Hokage and that he actually _declined_ the offer. Don't feel too bad. I'm sure he has to deal with a lot of women that want to just _talk_ to him and that must be his go-to response or something."

"Well, _I'm_ not like them!"

"So, you weren't trying to get in his pants?"

"Now, I didn't say that," she winked, "I'm not one of those prissy types he most likely deals with."

"Yea, you're an entirely different kind of overbearing."

"What was that?"

"Nothing, nothing," he said, holding his hands up innocently. Ikose watched the two Uchiha's from the corner of his eye. Itachi's back was rigid. His partner, on the other hand, was slouched forward and smiling slightly at something the man had said. Ikose could understand where she was coming from at least. Their looks were devastating. It was the sort of attractive any woman would fall for and any man would be annoyed by.

"Ugh," Aya groaned, pulling her overcoat tighter around her body and nudging a nearby rock with her shoe. "It's freezing."

"Well, it is almost winter," Ikose reasoned.

"I wish we could've waited at the nearby town instead," the Konoha diplomat suddenly interjected. He looked pointedly at the two Uchihas. "For all we know, our companions could've been trapped by a storm or forced off the main road by enemy ninjas. It's freezing here and my papers are starting to feel damp from the air. Just how much longer do they expect us to wait? This is an embarrassment, especially considering the fact that we're making Kiri wait here with us."

Ikose slammed his mouth shut, not wanting to get involved with whatever nonsense their diplomat was saying. No way in hell was he going to complain. Especially not to two men with short swords sharp enough to make it seem like they killed for sport during their off days.

"They were given the option to wait in a nearby town," Itachi said calmly.

"Exactly," Shisui butt in. "They chose to stay here, so that as soon as our party arrived, we could move onto the next stop where the talks will be taking place. If anything, your speaking out is an embarrassment. Don't bring your complaints about us out for everyone to hear. It's in poor taste."

Ikose's jaw dropped. Were they really reprimanding their own diplomat? The man was a representative of the feudal lord!

"Besides, we don't have to wait much longer," Shisui went on, piling his hands behind his head, as he jutted his chin in the direction of two dark specks over his shoulder. "They're right there."

Everyone in the clearing turned to find two figures running towards them at full speed. Not a moment later, and they were already standing before them, eyes roving over each one of their faces.

 _A Nara and a Hyuga,_ Ikose noted.

Shikaku Nara was known far and wide. The scars across his face and the easily discernable hairstyle made it obvious to all who he was. And although he relaxed at the sight of all of them gathered there, his face was severe enough to make him look anything but. A Hyuga stood beside him. Deep, purple hair, regal features, and a body that made him pause for a moment to stare. She was gorgeous. Were all of Konoha's future clan heads beautiful? Because they needed to bring some of their genes to Kiri—preferably sooner rather than later.

Hell, they should just go ahead and make some kind of marriage arrangement now. He was sure more than a few would fight over that woman's hand. Their clans heads were either strange-looking from too much inbreeding or had these off-putting features common to them... like awfully pointed teeth. Just imagining a blowjob from someone with teeth like that made him shudder.

 _She's young_ , Ikose thought. _Older than me, but young. Too young for a clan head_. _The Hyuga heiress then._

"Sorry for keeping you," Shikaku immediately said.

Behind him, the Hyuga heiress bowed in apology. "Many of the main roads were closed due to the inclement weather," she said, her voice carrying all across the camp.

They received a number of grunts and nods in return.

It wasn't long before they were packing up to leave. But as soon as they started doing so, Aya grabbed him by the arm.

"Look!" she whispered in his ear.

Ikose turned just in time to see Uchiha Shisui nudging his cousin, who merely grunted and shook him off. Itachi walked over to the woman, who was busy tightening the sash around her waist to properly accommodate that _fucking ridiculous rack._ Itachi's shoulders were as straight as ever, his jaw set, as he walked unhesitatingly toward her.

Both Ikose and Aya found themselves leaning closer, straining their ears to hear their conversation.

"Itachi-san," the woman called, delighted. "I'm sorry to have kept you all waiting for so long."

"So he does talk," Aya said, eyeing the dark-haired woman critically. "Think he's just being polite because she's an hei—"

Whatever else she was going to say was lost in an embarrassed squeak when Itachi reached up to brush a strand of the woman's hair behind her ear. The woman blushed cutely. Her eyes darted around, as if he'd just done something improper. She looked down and bit her lower lip, unintentionally making the Uchiha zero in on the area.

A second after, and Itachi was already pulling a respectable distance away, not prolonging their contact. Though his fingers did trace across her cheek, before they fell, lingering in a familiar way that just spoke of tenderness and intimacy. There was a softer look in his eyes that made him seem like an entirely different man in the warm glow of the fire.

"It's no trouble at all," Itachi said.

Whatever Hinata said in response was lost to them, as Shisui pounced on the two with a wide grin and a mischievous glint in his eye. The man seemed so much more animated in the face of such a reserved couple.

Aya pulled Ikose around again, her eyebrows were so high that Ikose thought they might actually touch her hairline. "He could've at least mentioned that he was taken instead of just shutting me down like that."

"If he was taken, then I'm sure the entire ninja world would've known about it by now."

"Then how do you explain _that_?"

"Courting?" Ikose offered. "Maybe just a passing interest?"

"I'm not touching a man already set on someone else." Aya groaned, aggravated by it all. "She's pretty. But I haven't seen enough to know whether or not she's interested in him though."

"He's Uchiha itachi. Of course she's interested."

"You don't know that," she said, biting. "And don't you dare ruin my dreams."

"Dreams? _What_ dreams, Aya?"

"Of me and—"

"You _just_ said you weren't interested in a man that had eyes for someone el—"

"Let me finish!" Aya said, kicking his shin. "I didn't mean him. Do you think _she's_ interested in women?"

Ikose gave a long-suffering sigh.

 _Sage, help me._

* * *

 _A/N: Chapter was inspired by a DA fic from LoquaciousQuark._


	26. Curiosity

_Disclaimer: I don't own Naruto._

* * *

 _ **Sasuke's POV.**_

* * *

ANBU members scarcely left the village without the cover of darkness.

Sasuke didn't know if the Hokage purposely waited for night to fall before handing them their missions or if people around the world just collectively thought it would be a good idea to commit the most atrocious acts when people most expected them to—did they think it was cooler? If they were trying to avoid the masses, then that could be done even during the day. They'd probably fare better, too. Most ninjas were night owls.

But this was one of those rare occasions where Sasuke was suddenly assigned a mission in the morning. It was before a respectable time when most ninjas were either busy eating breakfast or doing morning warm-ups. Even rarer, was the fact that he was paired with his older brother. Itachi would be leading the two-week long venture out into snow country. For what, he didn't know. Apparently he and Shikamaru would be briefed along the way.

The Hokage was sending some serious manpower though, so whatever the reason for their departure, it would be big.

He was exactly six minutes early when he arrived at the gate. The Nara had yet to show, but that was only because he didn't have his speed. Though he was unsurprised to find his brother already there, back toward him, packed and ready to go. His ANBU mask was more than likely hidden somewhere inside his pack. It was larger than his usual one. He could just make out the outline of a stack of boxes stuffed inside. Lunchboxes? Or was it something for the mission?

His eyes trailed to his brother's wife, half-hidden over his shoulder, and he got his answer.

When Itachi left for a mission before nightfall, Hinata was always, without fail, there to bid him farewell by Konoha's gates. It wasn't an uncommon sight to see a wife or husband seeing their spouse off or a team of genin waving to their sensei. Even Naruto made sure to at least drop by to see him whenever he was due to leave—it didn't matter the time. But seeing his brother so... openly affectionate made him queasy.

Sasuke had basically emulated his stoic demeanor from Itachi, and even after all this time, he still couldn't stand to see him as anything but apathetic.

But there he was.

There _they_ were.

It was quiet between them. Not that that was anything new. But this time Sasuke found himself staring, as Hinata placed a hand on Itachi's cheek, reaching upwards to brush away his bangs, before tracing the stress lines that were now a permanent fixture on his brother's face. She smiled bashfully at him when Itachi whispered something too low for his ears to catch. His hand rose to cup the woman's pale cheek. She leaned into it, and he massaged her with his thumb in a loving caress.

It was simple, tacit affection.

They weren't giving people a show by making out or screaming loud, gaudy goodbyes—they were bred with more class than that. But they attracted attention regardless. So much so that the two guards by the gate were blushing madly, hands over their faces like the pair were committing an act of public indecency.

Sasuke supposed that fluff just had that effect on people.

Before Sasuke could announce his presence, Itachi looked at him over his shoulder. His face back to the usual equanimity he was used to.

"Sasuke," Itachi acknowledged.

"Sasuke-kun," Hinata was next, her eyes lighting up at the sight of him, even as she moved half a step away from Itachi to bow politely.

As soon as she straightened, Itachi had a hand on the small of her back and his lips by her ear, whispering something that made her blush cutely. The alien softness in his eyes was almost too much to bear. Itachi could kill a dozen men with a finger—and he currently had five of them on her. Sasuke had always wondered if Hinata realized that she was basically chained to a lion.

"Come back to me," she told him with a dopey smile. It was barely a whisper, but Sasuke's trained ears still caught it. She paused, then added, "Safely."

"... I will try."

She nodded, accepting that, before he gently nudged her back in the direction of their home. Hinata went without complaint, smiling and waving a hand to both of them, as she disappeared into the crowd. Itachi watched her go, a wistful look in his eyes. But it was schooled back into neutral as soon as they settled back on Sasuke.

"You're whipped," Sasuke deadpanned. He may have been slightly jealous. Not that he'd ever admit that. Besides, he had a feeling Itachi knew, and was internally laughing at him.

"It's better to be," his brother said wisely. He pointed one black painted fingernail—Sasuke never understood that about him. Was Hinata painting it? Or was Itachi actually into doing his nails?—to his left, where Shikamaru was currently walking with his own wife, Temari. "See?"

Sasuke didn't.

But if his brother said so, then there must be some advantage to being hung up on someone that he wasn't getting. He valued his privacy, and while he never really liked being truly alone, he did have his friends and family around. Perhaps that made him emotionally stunted. If it did, then it was something he'd picked up from his clan. The majority of them were all icy bastards.

"Does she see you off here at night, too?" Sasuke asked, genuinely curious. "Isn't that dangerous for her?"

"No, she doesn't," Itachi answered, then, "And yes, it is."

Sasuke was tempted to ask how Hinata said goodbye to him when he was leaving in the middle of the night. Did he just inform her before she went to bed? What about impromptu assignments? Did he wake her? Or did he let her sleep and just leave a note? Sasuke could imagine Itachi doing both, so maybe it depended on his brother's mood?

"... Do you wake her?" Sasuke asked eventually, knowing it would bother him if he didn't. "Isn't that a bother?"

Itachi smirked. There was a secretive tilt to it that made him squirm.

"It depends," his brother shrugged, "Perhaps you should get a girlfriend and find out."

Not likely.

If he disguised himself as Itachi while he was out on some mission though, then maybe he'd be able to find out... but would it be worth it? His brother might actually kill him when he returned. And there was no guarantee Hinata would fall for it.

As he looked at Shikamaru saying a brief farewell to Temari, however, he thought that, _yes, it might be._

* * *

 _A/N: Boy, that curiosity is gonna get you maimed._

 _I've been asked multiple times if I had a tumblr, and yes, I do. I'm fairly active, so ASK and PM if you'd like. My tumblr handle is: **idlelitany.**_ _I just changed my theme and I'm quite happy with it._

 _ **If you want to support me and my writing by buying my novels or if you just want some info, then check out my author blog. URL on profile.**_


	27. Itachi

_Disclaimer: I don't own Naruto._

* * *

There were days he imagined her dying.

Pale hands reaching for something in the unknowable distance, eyes glazed over, half-gone already, searching through the blurs for something only she'd know. He imagined her gasping for air, bleeding, mouth opening and closing, barely able to form his name. She was always in their home, strewn horizontally across the ground, bleeding trails under the nearby couch and matting that silky hair he loved into long clusters, fresh from a puddle bath of copper and red.

Those opalescent orbs he could never handle, still the same, despite the flecks of vanished life. And always, without fail, he'd be standing above her. A hair's breadth away. Not touching. Only watching. Distantly gazing at how easily the strings of life could be pulled and snapped and twisted away from his hands.

Humans were so fragile.

She was so fragile.

... And Itachi had so many enemies.

More than that, he had men after him simply for the sake of glory, for wanting the honor of having offed him; he had hate-filled women he'd never even glanced at obsessed with his every move and scornful of his wife. They were a dangerous bunch. Perhaps even more so than enemy ninjas. One typically didn't expect a civilian from their own village to break in and attack them. Itachi knew she could take care of herself. That she was a trained ninja and skilled in her own right, but... he also saw that as his job.

Itachi wasn't accustomed to failure.

So, whenever he was out on missions, he always hurried home. Finishing what he could as soon as possible and making certain that he gave it his all, so there would be no loose ends for him to burn. It increased his productivity and made his clan and village prouder than they already were of him. And so, they sent him on harder missions with even bloodier tasks.

Little did they know that each time a man fell before him, he'd imagine Hinata falling the same way, he'd dream of the victim's family knocking on his house's door for revenge so that they could plunge a knife haphazardly through his kind wife's chest. He thought of how the poisons he favored could blacken his wife's lungs, bile and blood clawing its way up her throat, only for it to stop halfway as spittle frothed around her mouth and she keeled over. Dead. Still warm. The poison slowly rotting her veins.

He'd had enough.

He remembered the way the older generations taught the academy children about the ninja way of life. From protecting one's village to defending teammates and the embellished history of the Hidden Leaf. They made it sound so noble. So wonderful and magnificent. No one talked about the night terrors, about the ache his entire being suffered from every morning. Phantom pains of injuries long since healed. Itachi had a body built by war; for war—and in his perfect mind, he never remembered anyone mention the tears of a four year old boy that just found out that the _kind_ man carrying him away from the burning wreckage he once called home was the same man that brutally murdered his father.

No one talked about the disgust he felt in the mirror during his off days when Hinata's gentle presence wasn't there to reassure him. When she wasn't there to place those fingers he adored on his chin in a gentle caress, forcing him towards her, so that he stopped peering at his broken reflection, and instead into her loving eyes that accepted him for who he was and what he did every single day he left the village's gates. Or even what he did inside them, in those musky, underground tunnels where the interrogation units made their home.

The ninja way of life could barely be called a life.

It certainly wasn't one he was comfortable living.

Something as mundane as the scent of cleaning oils or the sizzling of frying pork could bring him back to a place in time that was filled with constant screaming. Cells lined with men and women he needed to squeeze information out of because the regular torture methods hadn't been efficient enough. But instead of his charges haunting him, his disillusioned mind would replace them with a struggling Hinata, caught in chains, gripping the side of her face like that one man he remembered slicing with a thousand tiny cuts before even asking a question. The incisions merely a precursor of pain to come.

 _That'll keep you on your toes_ , his cousin told him once, after he confided in him about his rampant imagination. And because Shisui understood him so well, he gave him a code to follow: _Don't lose. Come back. Protect her._

Itachi repeated those words like a mantra whenever he was out on missions, whispering it under his breath like a prayer. Hinata was the physical embodiment of all the good inside of him that he was never allowed to express, of all the kindness he sought in the world, of everything he longed for and cherished. Failing to protect her would be a failure that would cleave what was left of his soul in two.

He hated imagining Hinata dying, but his thoughts were so vivid and backed by so much experience that he couldn't stop even if he wanted to. People were so focused on glory and life that they forgot that once the battle was over, there were no winners. Only the dead and the haunted.

Itachi hated killing.

He hated what it did to him. The way it eroded the virtuous man Hinata assured him she saw. The way it made him feel like nothing more than a monster whose time would soon come, and whose actions would be paid for by the blood of those he loved most.

But he'd continue to do it, to maim and mutilate and murder, so that the coming generation might not have to.

Everyday, he prayed...

 _'Let this cycle end with me.'_

* * *

 _A/N: Please Review._


	28. Shisui

_Disclaimer: I don't own Naruto._

* * *

Itachi had never seen Konoha's sky so blue before.

Especially not at this time of year, when the rest of Konoha was under a blanket of snow and even his breaths escaped in misty tendrils that were just begging the atmosphere for a little warmth. For all intents, the sky should've been gray and cooler than the Hyuga household. It should look as biting as he felt every morning when he rose from his bed, bare feet hitting the cold, wooden floorboards of his house, only to reel back in discomfort. If he was Shisui, he'd probably curse. But he wasn't Shisui, and even when alone, Itachi rarely ever let any sort of profanity escape his lips.

Besides, he liked the cold. The way it numbed his skin and made his blood pool deep within him. How it brightened the rest of the world. Itachi was a living furnace. He could walk out in his usual training clothes and a thin jacket in subzero weather and be perfectly fine—like he was doing now. In the morning, however, he preferred waking up surrounded by warmth.

 _It's a beautiful day,_ he thought, reveling in the simplicity.

It was made more beautiful by the sight of his lovely fiancée, bundled up in a thick scarf and a long-sleeved dress and pants, waiting for him in front of the tea shop they agreed to meet at this morning. Conservative as usual, but no less charming. She was dressed in the typical blinding white of the Hyuga, blending in with the landscape around her and contrasting sharply with his own much darker appearance. Her hair was secured by a tie at the base of her neck, much like his own, except hers was thrown over one shoulder, so as not to get in the way of her scarf.

The scarf was one of his older ones, he realized, intoxicated by the mere thought.

Her eyes brightened at the sight of him. She smiled, running the short distance left between them.

"Hinata," he called, eyes barely registering the clamor of the waiters and waitresses that pressed themselves up against the tea shop's windows to get a closer look at them. "Am I late?"

"No," she told him, shaking her head emphatically. Her nose was so, so red. And when she grabbed one of his hands to warm up her own, he couldn't quite help the contented hum that left his lips. "I'm glad you made it. It's so cold. How do you stand it? And you're dressed in so _little,_ too."

There was a pout in her voice and in her face. Itachi was tempted to pull that cold face up to his neck, secure her there, and allow his presence to envelope and warm her, drape around her like a cloak, but—

"I thought you liked the cold," he said instead. Because Itachi, for all of his genius, wasn't quite sure how to be gentle—he knew though, that if he tried to be so, then his body would instinctively obey, despite not knowing how. Such was his command over his senses that they'd reflexively mimic the gentle nature of his mother or his father when they were together. But that wasn't him _._ And he didn't want to be anyone else right now.

He hesitated for a moment, wondering if he should cradle her cheeks in his hands. It was early morning. There was hardly anyone out, save for the ninjas with missions to do and the staff that worked ungodly shifts. Still, they were in public. A matter he'd forgotten once before and had been heavily reprimanded for by his father when gossip began spreading. His father didn't approve of such public displays of affection by someone supposed to be seen as nothing but the perfect ninja.

It was hard though—resisting her, that is. He'd heard it was common. That when relationships first started they were filled with light and fun and all of those other things he never once associated himself with; and despite them having been together for a good while, their love was still considered new. It was still little more than a child in his arms, young and inexperienced, staring at the world in awe. But no matter how many years he spent in her company, Itachi doubted that that would ever fade. Doubted more that he'd tire of her.

Hinata didn't bother gracing him with a response, perhaps having already known that he'd gone off into his own little world. Instead, she pulled the hand she'd clasped into her own up to her face. Itachi's cradled the side of her head, thumb rubbing across her cheekbone, fingers delving into her hair.

Her hands were warmer now, he noted absently. Her nose, too. Her eyes, however, were still just as bright.

 _I could kiss her,_ Itachi thought. He wouldn't have to ask, though the blush whenever he did was worth it. It was the kind of thing that made warmth pool in his chest, swell upwards, then spread out across his skin like the tide over sand.

But, as was usually the case with this woman, rarely did things ever go his way.

"Well, well," a familiar voice whispered in Itachi's ear, before an arm wrapped around his shoulders. "What do we have here?"

Itachi closed his eyes for a moment in physical pain. "Shisui."

"Aren't you going to introduce us?" he prompted.

"You've met her before."

"Yes, _once._ When you announced your intentions to the clan and you know I couldn't just randomly walk up back then. Not when she was surrounded by elders. Oh, but you're good at hiding her, I'll give you that."

Itachi sighed. "Hinata—"

"First name, I see."

"— _this_ is my cousin, Uchiha Shisui. ANBU. Troublemaker. Occasional fool."

"What kind of greeting was that? Even when you're joking, you sound stiff!" Shisui chastised, before holding his hand out to Hinata with an easy grin on his face. It was the kind of grin that made women weak at the knees, and his cousin knew it. "Shisui, it's a pleasure to meet you."

Hinata didn't even blush. Itachi was quite proud of her for that. Especially when Shisui's eyes widened ever so slightly in surprise. Though she did hesitate for a moment, looking down at his wiggling fingers, not quite used to shaking hands. From a young age, she was taught the proper way to bow and when she needed to—always before the other person to show femininity and politeness, but never too low; you're an heiress—and she secretly preferred it because it felt cleaner. But Hinata tried, with as much grace as she could muster, to extend her hand in a way that didn't seem awkward. Her grip was delicate, as if unsure how much she should press.

"Hinata," she said, settling for wrapping both of her delicate hands around Shisui's much larger one to make up for her inexperience with such a modern gesture. "I'm sorry I never properly introduced myself to you. I've heard stories about you from Itachi. Thank you for always taking care of him on missions."

 _He's very precious to me,_ were the unspoken words that her tone conveyed.

Hinata gave Shisui a warm smile filled with so much affection from just the knowledge of him being related to Itachi that Shisui's shoulders went rigid.

Shisui gave off as much heat as him. Itachi knew that because it was a common trait among the Uchiha, whose natures were ruled by fire. So, he also knew that the redness on his cheeks and the trail of heat spreading down his chin wasn't from the cold.

Itachi yanked his cousin backward by his shirt in a move so subtle, Hinata thought the man had naturally pulled away from the handshake. Their eyes met for the briefest of moments. Shisui's dazed and befuddled; Itachi's warning him to gather his wits.

"It's embarrassing to be thanked for that," Shisui said, smiling in a decidedly _un-Uchiha-like_ fashion. He and Hinata were similar in that they strayed from the norms of their clan. "Itachi takes care of me, too, y'know? But I'm not one to deny credit where credit is due, so you're welcome."

"What are you doing out so early, Shisui-san?" Hinata asked, able to keep up with the spew of words that left his mouth. Itachi supposed that was a side effect of having an Inuzuka as a teammate for so many years.

At her words, Itachi and Shisui's eyes met again.

 _Don't you dare think about joining us,_ Itachi's eyes threatened.

"I have a mission," Shisui lied. He was as free as the wind today.

"Oh," Hinata said, frowning. "I'm sorry for keeping you."

Shisui's eyes widened for the second time. "Hokage's teeth, you're _polite._ How do you even handle Itachi?"

Hinata blushed at his words and looked down, not quite sure how to answer that.

"Shisui," Itachi called, sighing.

"Yea, that's exactly the tone I was looking for," Shisui went on, ignoring him. "He doesn't force you with that _no-choice_ voice of his, does he? Don't let him manipulate you!"

"Didn't you have a mission?" Itachi emphasized, tilting his head toward the village gates in a not so subtle move to make him leave.

"It's B-class," he went on, crafting a false story like it was second nature to him. Then again, it was. "Weeding out a few enemy ninja. They're barely Chunin, so not too bad. Not to mention, it's cold as death out here. They're all holed up in their tunnels. Wrapped in ugly, woolen sweaters, drinking hot chocolate, and telling each other scary tales of their previous missions."

"They are _not_." Hinata stared at Shisui's very serious face for a moment, before turning to her fiancé. "Are they?"

Shisui whirled around to face his stoic cousin. "Oh, _Itachi,_ she's precious! Lend her to me, would you?"

" _Shisui._ "

* * *

 _A/N: Please Review._


	29. Tears

_Disclaimer: I don't own Naruto._

* * *

The first time Itachi witnessed his wife crying something had twisted in his gut. He blamed it on the fact that she was a timid little girl, even shorter than his midget of a brother. She looked as though she wouldn't swat a mosquito even if she found it biting her. Yes, she was more the type to shake her arm to make it go away, rather than kill the _poor_ thing.

So, when three boys around her age had pushed her pretty little face into the dirt, Itachi knew she wouldn't even think about using her Gentle Fist on them. He didn't bother helping her, having already sensed her bodyguard rounding the corner a few meters away. Though really, the man should've been there from the start.

Useless guard.

Useless heiress as well.

She'd wilt under the strictness of the Hyuga.

His merciless pre-teenage assessment all those years ago had been right because the second time he saw her cry, it was in a hospital bed. It was done in the middle of the night after the Chunin exams where her cousin had upstaged her and showed the entire village the incompetence of the Hyuga main house's heiress. If she didn't improve soon, she'd be replaced. It was only a matter of time.

As an ANBU operative, it had been his job to guard her room. He did so for one night, before being sent on another mission because his skills were apparently wasted on guard duty according to the Hokage—and practically anyone else with a brain.

He agreed of course.

Itachi knew his strengths, and they didn't lie in guard duty and tiresome escorts, no, he was trained to kill, and he did it better than most.

But during those scant few hours in her company, the one thing he realized about her was that she cried quietly. Her shoulders barely shook. And though she gasped every now and again, it wasn't so noticeable that someone would suspect that she wasn't sleeping. Itachi knew that she didn't cry that way because she noticed his presence. That was impossible for a child of her caliber. He was an ANBU operative; she had barely made it through the Chunin exams. But then again, what child tried to stifle their sobs when they thought themselves alone?

He knew the answer—the frightened and the unloved.

Itachi only felt bad then.

The third time was much later, closely after their fourth marriage meeting. The yearly setup was only for formalities. Truthfully, he hadn't seen her since the first meeting when she first turned sixteen. Whenever it was scheduled, Hyuga Hiashi would merely invite him in for tea, coldly apologize for her absence, and then assure him that his presence was enough to satisfy the Hyuga—Itachi doubted it, but he wasn't about to question a quiet afternoon of expensive tea and silence.

Itachi didn't know why Hiashi did it, but he suspected that the clan head knew of Hinata's affection for his little brother's best friend and thus, made her only attend meetings she couldn't avoid. If nothing else, Itachi was good at reading between the lines, and he could easily see that Hinata's father wanted her to keep that childhood love for as long as she could.

Hiashi was kind when he wanted to be. It was clear to him, at least, that he loved his daughters, despite how he acted in public.

Itachi kept his secret.

In the years after realizing this, he made sure to go to the Hyuga main house first. Unlike the other ninja clans and noble families, Hiashi didn't give him grief about the flimsy excuses he made concerning the absence of his little brother, who every year, without fail, pleaded with him not to make him go.

He'd never been good at denying Sasuke anything.

Itachi didn't mind not seeing her. Before their fifth meeting—when she was twenty and he, five years her senior; when she was actually present through some twist of fate and he'd found her in the kitchen cooking—he was only vaguely interested in her, and Hinata, not at all in him. He was still satisfied by that back then. Relieved, even. Because whenever he was forced into attending marriage meetings, then he at least knew that the Hyuga house was safe from any screeching women.

But that day, as he left the Hyuga main house for the fourth year in a row, it became especially memorable for him because the angry cousin that had tried to kill the Hyuga heiress all those years ago had glared at him on his way out. Hyuga Neji had apparently gotten protective while he wasn't looking. That took a special kind of person. And just when Itachi thought that he'd be able to enjoy a leisurely stroll, he looked up at the sky only to find it gray and heavy with the threat of impending rain. It was as if the droplets were just waiting for the best moment to ruin someone's day. Sadistic things.

So, on his way home, Itachi decided to take a shortcut through one of his favored training grounds. To his surprise, he found Hinata there. He saw her from afar, huddled in on herself, with her back pressed against a tree. He knew it was her simply because of her attire. Few ninjas wore lavender. It wasn't a color just anyone could pull.

Itachi didn't bother approaching. He didn't make a habit of comforting crying women, lest they all expect the same treatment. Besides, they could handle it. Hinata, especially. She was more than the Hyuga heiress; she was a proud ninja of Konoha. He didn't doubt her ability to overcome.

He lingered just long enough to note that she still cried the same. Quiet and alone. Only the subtle shake of her shoulders gave her away. If Itachi hadn't switched on his Sharingan, he might've thought her sleeping.

Mere hours after he left her there to wallow, he learned from Shisui—who kept one ear pressed to the door of Konoha's gossip mill—that Hinata had been upset with herself for fainting in front of her oblivious childhood crush. Again.

Foolish woman.

Every drop that rolled down her cheeks was worth a bag of blood. Dozens would kill if she showed them that face of hers. He would know. Throughout the years, his mother had told him much about all of the women itemized on that list he received every year of women he was _allowed_ to marry. Itachi knew Hiashi could barely keep up with the meeting requests thrown his way. Some by men twice Hinata's age; others by clan-less ninjas with legacies large and proud enough to grant them an audience with ninja nobility. Perhaps that's why Hinata had been out there, in that training ground he favored—for _seclusion._ He didn't blame her. That was one of the reasons he visited it so often.

Her tears then had... irked him.

That purposefully—because he refused to believe Naruto was truly that naïve—ignorant blond wasn't worth it. No one was. She was the heiress of a prestigious clan. A great ninja in her own right. Gentle. Perceptive. Beautiful. Any man lucky enough to be blessed with her interest and still wilfully choose to leave her alone was beyond help.

The fourth time he saw her cry, Itachi had an irrational desire to immolate the entire world to the ground... because how dare they make her look like that? What right did the Hyuga council have to make her mouth tilt into a pained grimace? Insulting her for her choices, all the while stocking stones on her back like she wasn't already staggering under the weight of what she carried.

They were old, demented fools. The entire lot of them. And if they couldn't appreciate her for who she was, then...

Then...

He honestly didn't know.

Itachi had no claim over her. Neither did he have any right to be angry, but here he was—exactly that. The solution then was simple. He just needed to change the dynamics of their relationship.

The fifth time, she didn't cry, she wept.

It was the day she emptied herself of her love for Naruto.

Itachi had pushed her then. His scalding tongue lashed out in prime Uchiha fashion because he just couldn't understand why she was still hanging on. Why she pushed those that truly cared for her away for someone that may or may not turn around and see her. He regretted it after of course. But pride kept him from apologizing and stubbornness reminded him that she needed this.

That didn't stop him from feeling like a failure when he saw her red eyes the morning after.

Slaughtering men never made him feel like half the monster he did when he knew he was the reason for her tears.

The sixth time, she was in a daze and had accidentally rammed her head against one of the kitchen's overhead cabinets. If the tears were from embarrassment or pain, he didn't know.

But he'd laughed at her then.

She was so, so lovely.

The seventh was a minor sob.

He'd proposed.

The tears were a welcome sight.

All of the subsequent times he found tears welling up in her eyes, he kissed them away because it was his right as her husband to do so. If they were in public, he'd wipe them with his fingers instead. The gesture was still affectionate enough to make her blush and to garner more than a few looks from passerbys, but he ignored them. They weren't important.

All in all, Itachi could say with certainty that his wife cried too easily and too often. But they were never crocodile tears. They were never done with an ulterior motive; to gain pity or induce guilt.

And he loved that.

He loved her.

* * *

 _A/N: 30 Shorts Complete. It's been a fun month and a half, but it's about time I return to my original work._ _ **Please, if any of you are interested in my writing beyond fanfiction, then I do have a fantasy novel published which you guys can check out. URL is on my profile.**_

 _Until another day._

 _Blob80 out._


	30. Hinata's Journal 1

_Disclaimer: I don't own Naruto._

* * *

 _ **First Person. Hinata's POV.**_

* * *

 _October 25_ _th_ _– Unreasonably warm. I had to leave my jacket at home._

I trimmed the edges of my hair today. It was getting too unruly. Shino said it looked good, and Hanabi thought I only did it to prepare for the yearly round of marriage meetings I'd need to attend. I hope father lets me skip most of them again this year. He's always been so understanding with them.

Speaking of father, he's been... tired recently. No, not tired. I can't describe his face properly. It's almost angry. Bitter. Like old, bottled frustration that's burned away all of the heat and just sits like cold steel in his stomach—Hanabi tells me its exasperation. The Council is forcing him to choose a proper husband for me. I'm not getting any younger, so I understand. But I'm glad he hasn't; I'm glad he's respecting my wishes. I fought in a war. I'm mature enough to choose a husband for myself.

... The only problem is getting my choice to actually see me.

Maybe one day, when the world is new.

I hear he's gone out of the village again with the rest of Team 7. He'll be gone for six months. Team 7 always gets first pick at these type of long-running missions. Kiba's still sour about that. (I understand though.)

I'll pray for his safe return. I hope I can catch a glimpse of him before he comes back.

;-;-;-;-;-;-;-;-;-;-;-;-;-;

 _November 7_ _th_ _– Brutal winds today, like knives._

I had tea with father today. Some sort of special peppermint from a distant land. I didn't like it very much, neither did he. I saw him wrinkle his nose ever so slightly. He cracked a smile when I did the same. Father told me that I didn't need to attend my marriage meetings if I was busy and that he'd take care of it, as he always has. I'm very grateful. But I promised to at least attend a few before I left for my next mission. He didn't look bothered, but he didn't look relieved either.

Father gave me a list of who I'd be meeting. It wasn't very long. Three names—Uchiha Itachi was the first.

I'm not nervous... not really. I've already met him officially. Once. When I first turned sixteen. I've seen him walk the streets before, and I've watched him from a distance at clan gatherings. He isn't interested in anyone, and he doesn't linger once his business is concluded. I assume he won't be around for long. Perhaps I'll just let father offer him some tea after a brief greeting, if it would be appropriate. I doubt it. But I'm sure Uchiha-sama would appreciate the peaceful silence more than a stranger's company.

I'm rarely home these days. I'd like to spend it tending to the gardens and making those salves Kiba has been asking for. Some of the younger children in the clan haven't been treating their hands well. I need to see them, too.

Hanabi has been pestering me to make her a few sweets. She's gotten thinner. I need to make her more than just pastries. Those empty calories aren't good for her (or for me.) I keep telling her that she needs more protein, but her head is harder than my bookshelves. I know she'll eat it if I make it though. Now, I just need to find the time.

... Maybe I should make cinnamon buns while I'm at it.

;-;-;-;-;-;-;-;-;-;-;-;-;-;

 _November 9_ _th_ _– The temperature is dropping. I've brought out my winter cloaks._

Oh, I embarrassed myself (again) today!

I was caught in the kitchens by Uchiha Itachi, smelling of cinnamon and looking like I was attacked by a flour monster of all things. I couldn't read his face, but he might've been judging me for even being in there. I'm an heiress... or so everyone keeps reminding me. I at least remembered to be polite. I bowed and smiled and used my best indoor voice. That still didn't stop father from giving me a disapproving frown when I returned (fresh and properly dressed of course).

After we had a cup of tea, I was too embarrassed to leave the room. No excuse would be good enough. Uchiha-sama already knew where I'd be going. He was very quiet and civil all throughout the meeting though, which I appreciated. I've met a fair few that have actually had the audacity to run their fingers in my hair. They were never invited again. Well, except the feudal lord's son. But his visits couldn't be refused.

Uchiha-sama stayed for three cups of tea before heading out with a brief bow and an ambiguous tilt of his head in my direction. I think he just got back from training because his hair had been slightly damp and he smelt like soap. When I told Shino this, he told me I needed to distance myself from Kiba for a few weeks.

;-;-;-;-;-;-;-;-;-;-;-;-;-;

 _November 17_ _th_ _– Cold. Grey, stormy skies._

I went on a date today.

A pretend date, but still a date. It was in a small teahouse that Shikamaru-kun likes. I didn't think it would be there of all places, and I ended up coming overdressed. Itachi-sama apologized for the setting, but I'm very happy that he'd been thinking about the weather when he made his plans. I didn't give much thought to the rain. He's a lot politer than I expected.

We spoke for a while. It's unnerving sitting in front of Itachi-sama. He sees through me like glass. But he's very knowledgeable. There's a certain comfort to being in his presence. Even so, I chose to leave first. It was getting late, and I doubt father would appreciate me spending so much time with a phony marriage prospect.

I wonder how many women actively chase him for him to need a fake date just to get them to stand down. I feel very sorry for him.

He asked (demanded) that we go on a make-up date, so he could properly apologize for bringing me to such an "unrefined venue," or so he said. It's very hard to say no to Uchiha Itachi. Hanabi can be a hammer sometimes, but at least she can speak her mind. I envy her for that.

The clan matrons have been reprimanding me ever since they found out about the make-up date. I'm being forced to redo basic etiquette lessons that I mastered when I was seven because they don't want me to embarrass the clan... but is there anyone that doesn't look like an embarrassment beside the Uchiha heir?

I'll do my best.

[The entry ends with doodles of angry stick figures and a flower pot.]

;-;-;-;-;-;-;-;-;-;-;-;-;-;

 _November 21_ _st_ _– The sky is still weeping._

He almost kissed me when I was leaving.

I was looking up at him, and he was bent very close. The last of the evening light vanished behind him, and he reached up to cradle my chin in his hands, then—

The door opened.

Itachi-sama had looked... well, unruffled. But he did blink twice. Slow and deliberate. Perhaps I'm just imagining it. He did say there was a spot of cream on my chin from the desert (and oh, the cake was heavenly! All fluff and frost and confection. I've already scheduled a desert day for me and Kurenai-sensei.)

He invited me to make deserts for him in his family home...

This is getting a bit out of hand now. Perhaps it's time we stopped seeing each other. I don't want the rumors to grow too much. Father has already told me that the meeting requests have reduced significantly, in large part due to Itachi-sama's reputation. I'm happy father's satisfied. I hope this tactic worked just as well for him.

I'm glad that we're friends now. Somewhat. He has a very serene presence.

;-;-;-;-;-;-;-;-;-;-;-;-;-;

 _November 25th -_ _There was a miserable little dusting of snow. I'm looking forward to more._

I went to the bookstore yesterday to read up on healing ninjutsu. The lady there gave me a very stern glance and told me that this wasn't a library, and if I intended to continue taking up space while I finished reading an unpaid book, then she could think of much more permanent ways to make that happen. She was very scary for a civilian. I apologized, and she charged me a lot of money for it.

When I passed by her shop today though, she was all smiles and even offered to give me a few books for free. Her smile looked tight and her eyes flared in a way that indicated fright. Maybe she found out about my status? It wouldn't be the first time someone's completely changed their tune. But who told her? I'm so far from Konoha. I doubt anyone would recognize me.

In other news, something's been following me. A summon. It's a large crow. Its plume is one of the darkest shades of black that I've ever seen. I tried to make it come closer, but it always stayed high above me, circling the sky like it was waiting for me to show a sign of weakness. I don't like it. But it isn't hurting anyone. I just hope it goes away soon.

[A drawing of said crow fills the rest of the page.]

;-;-;-;-;-;-;-;-;-;-;-;-;-;

 _December 1_ _st_ _– It's snowing! I knitted Hanabi a pink scarf. She gave me the biggest smile. I love her._

I was able to see Naruto-kun today. I saw him standing outside of a ramen shop along the border of Wind Country. He was blowing warm breath into his hands and waiting for the shop to open. We spoke for a bit—I didn't faint!

I don't know how long we stood there. A lifetime, maybe? One stretched out into a handful of small seconds. But he was called away by Sakura soon enough. They had to go. I didn't ask for details; they couldn't divulge any information anyway. Besides, I have my own mission to do. Once I deliver these herbs, then I'll be able to return home.

I should be happy. But... his eyes looked so bright when he saw her. All bright blue and happy. That's such a nice look. It sparkles. Naruto-kun hugged me afterwards and gave me the most exuberant goodbye he could muster. He promised to treat me to Ichiraku's Ramen when we both have free time. Just the thought was enough to leave me giddy with joy.

I've always been so weak.

He might never love me—not in the way I hope—but I can see that he cares. I can be satisfied with that, I think. I don't want to be, but I can. His friendship is very precious to me.

[Indecipherable scribbles and the word 'ramen' repeat over and over.]

;-;-;-;-;-;-;-;-;-;-;-;-;-;

 _December 8_ _th_ _– It's dark today. The sun hasn't been around. I hope it comes out soon._

I accidentally snagged my jacket on an icicle today. The sleeve was torn, but it was wet enough from the melted snow that it slid right away. I stumbled across Itachi-sama, or rather, he stumbled across me, in a tea house on the edge of the land of fire. He'd just gotten back from a mission as well. So, we decided to return together.

It was a long, peaceful trek back. I think I might've weighed him down though. Itachi-sama looks like the type to rush to and from missions, I prefer taking my time when allowed. I doubt we had similar assignments. I only needed to get rid of a few enemy ninjas. Itachi-sama is an ANBU Captain, surely his missions are more urgent. But he insisted on staying with me and walking at my sluggish pace. I tried to hurry. But seeing the land of fire enveloped in snow was too distracting for me to run.

That crow that was following me disappeared. I told Itachi-sama about it. He told me that the crow must've grown attached to me and wanted me to come back safely. I don't know how or when it did. I've never had any direct contact with crows before either, but I doubt they'd go so far—and that was a summon to boot. But he looked so certain that I didn't question it.

We stopped to eat beside a river. I caught fish, while Itachi-sama started a fire. His flames are bright. Overly so.

It reminded me of the sun.

;-;-;-;-;-;-;-;-;-;-;-;-;-;

 _December 10_ _th_ _– It's freezing. I can't sleep._

I've caught a cold.

It came out of nowhere. Like a bolt from the blue. It must have something to do with the weather, but I've never gotten sick before, no matter how quickly the temperature dropped. Well, there's a first time for everything I suppose. Hanabi made me tea and moved a cot into my room, so she could stay with me. Even Neji nii-san requested time off to help care for me.

For people that claim to know nothing about tenderness, they sure know how to turn my heart into mush. I need to thank them properly once I get better.

;-;-;-;-;-;-;-;-;-;-;-;-;-;

 _March 6_ _th_ _– The endless snow has finally given way to grass and flowers. I need to buy new seeds._

I lost you journal!

I meant to write sooner, but I accidentally stuck you in my pack on a mission last December, and in my rush home, I threw the pack into the corner of the room and completely forgot about you! I'm glad that I found you again though. A lot of things happened. Too much for me to fit in here, but it's in my head anyway. It isn't going anywhere.

Maybe when I'm less pressed for time, I'll scribble it down properly here. But for now, I'll give you a brief rundown instead:

Whenever Neji nii-san yawns, his jaw cracks. Rock Lee hit him once when they were fourteen and dislocated it. It's never been the same since.

Hanabi now complains whenever I leave the curtains cracked because the she claims that the sun gets too bright, too early. She's very cute when she tucks her face in her shoulder and turns away with a huff.

Kiba and Shino butted heads for a moment when they found out about Itachi courting me. There was a lot of irritated frowns and heated glares thrown around. They still didn't tell me why they were angry at each other, but I'm glad they've resolved their issues

Sasuke-kun is clingier than he looks. I never knew just how attached to Itachi he was until I first started coming to their house. Mikoto-san keeps him in place, however. She's always so excited to see me. I've recently started bringing Hanabi along as well—I think they both appreciate this newfound warmth.

Naruto-kun and I finally found time for that lunch at Ichiraku's that he promised way back when. He's still so bright. His smile looked a little tight though. But he was trying so hard to be lively that I couldn't find it in myself to press him. I reminded him that I'm here though—and that I always will be—I think that cheered him up. If only a little bit. I'll let Sakura and Sasuke-kun know. They'll know what to do.

Father and Fugaku-sama don't get along very well. They're civil, but I can see it in their eyes that they hold little love for each other. Maybe it's because they're too similar? Being too alike can also be a problem.

Lastly, Itachi tangles like a kitten when he sleeps. I know his voice first thing in the morning now. When he's still half-awake and his requests for breakfast are quiet and as rough as sand.

I'm happy.

* * *

 _A/N: Little bunny I wanted out of my head. I finished my third novel! So, I had time to shell this one out. Also, you cool kids made this my most reviewed story on fanfic. Thank you!_ _ **If any of you are interested in my writing beyond fanfiction, then I do have a fantasy novel published which you guys can check out. URL is on my profile.**_

 _Please Review._


	31. Glass

_Disclaimer: I don't own Naruto._

* * *

Itachi wore silence like armor.

There were a few, however, that could read him. Family mostly. Although there was the occasional outlier like Hatake Kakashi or the S-ranked missing-nin, Hoshigaki Kisame, who he had the pleasure of fighting several times over the years during particularly difficult missions.

But his wife was a different creature entirely. She was open with almost anything, so long as the person had her trust. And to him, she was like glass. She was also easy to unbalance. While he didn't dislike that about her, he just thought that sometimes it could be detrimental.

Not for her, but for him.

Whenever he saw tears rimming her eyes or her lips quivering, he had the urge to shatter something—preferably the cause of her inner turmoil. But that wasn't always possible. In fact, he distinctly recalled the first time that feeling had welled up inside of him. He even remembered the date, too—December 8—because he had his summon trail Hinata while she was out on a mission, so he could purposely time his return with hers. They had travelled together for a few hours and spent the night camping, before being soaked by a storm the following morning. Thankfully, they were close enough to a town that they were able to find shelter just as the winds became treacherous.

He didn't remember any of the common details about the inn that they stayed in like the name or who manned the front desk; it had been too long for him to recall such things. Besides, he had more important matters to focus on back then, seeing as how all that separated his room from Hinata's had been a bathroom. He'd conjured so many fantasies in his head about all of the positions he could've found her in while there, though none of them came true. But Itachi did strangely remember small, unnecessary things like how his room had excessively creaky floorboards and dusty shelves that were dense with emptiness. He also recalled a blue lampshade with orange floral patterns sitting on a table outside of his door. The color combination had irritated him, and he considered burning it no less than eight times before leaving.

But his most vivid memory was staring outside of his window and watching the sky go wild. Trees whipped each other into a frenzy. Lightning cackled in the distance like a warning of things yet to come. The rain didn't simply fall, it pounded _._ It struck everything that had the audacity to get between it and the earth with a vengeance that rivalled a man whose family had been slaughtered before his eyes.

Itachi had watched an old oak tree, forty feet tall and twice his width, twist like twine under the might of the wind. It didn't break at the core, no, it bent like a pliant pole made of rubber. All of its leaves shifted sideways, twisted over themselves, and then, all at once, the winds had uprooted it. A lattice of wood, soil, and root tore loose and splattered dirt high into the sky. An animal that he could just barely make out got slapped by a stray branch, whimpered, and then ran up the stairs of a nearby building, hopefully to its owner. The storm surged over the oak's home, filling the hole left behind in a matter of seconds, as if it had never been there to begin with.

Itachi breathed, slow and measured, at the sight.

 _That can't be good,_ he thought _._

But his worries were blown away the moment he heard a strangled shout from the other room. Before conscious thought could stop him, Itachi had already thrown open the two doors that separated them. He found Hinata staring out the window at the same spectacle he'd just witnessed. Her Byakugan was activated, and she had both hands pressed against the glass, as if preparing to go to the animal herself. But she must've seen that it was in good hands because she breathed a sigh of relief not long after. Itachi watched as her whole body seemed to slump forward with the movement.

"Itachi-sama?" Hinata said after seeing his reflection in the glass. It was more a question than a call, and he shuddered at the sound of his name in her voice.

Itachi hadn't been prepared for the sight of her when she turned to face him. Her hair was loosely tied at the base of her neck, and she'd exchanged the baggy clothing for something less modest and more comfortable to sleep in. It wasn't provocative, but it was certainly less than he'd ever seen on her before. His throat dried at the sight of her body. Sage, she was blessed. Kimonos didn't do her justice at all. They were pretty to look at, but they hid _so much_ behind all of those endless layers.

But infinitely more important than his first _real_ glimpse at her, were her wide eyes and how they brimmed with unshed tears. His heart spasmed in its cage. While his fist might not have clenched, his fingers did twitch without his consent, which was a feat in itself. His body _never_ disobeyed him. It was mind over body for him; always had been and always would be.

Maybe it was the sheer number of contradictions within the woman before him that had him reacting in strange ways. He doubted something like that was contagious, but he'd also doubted a ninja's sensitivity to such things before, too, so clearly he could be proven wrong. It was rare, but not impossible, as Sasuke liked to claim.

To this day, he still didn't fully comprehend how she could get all teary-eyed for an animal when she'd seen—and done—far worse. Itachi was suddenly stricken by the thought of her frowning with regret over the corpses of her own enemies. His chest ached at the dreadful image.

"Oh, I'm sorry," she said, rubbing her tears away with a dainty finger. She smiled in an effort to reassure him. "I just saw that dog get hit across the back, and I just..." Hinata sniffled, then wiped furiously at her eyes again.

She needed to stop doing that. He'd fight the storm if he had to.

"Is it okay?" Itachi asked after a moment.

"I saw it run up to a little girl. She and her mother gave him lots of hugs and checked for any injuries."

"Did they find any?" Itachi knew healing ninjutsu... the basics at least. He was confident in his ability to patch up superficial wounds, and if that dog could still run to its family, then he doubted it had anything more than a scratch.

Hinata activated her bloodline limit again. Her pupils moved ever so slightly, before she shook her head. "He's okay."

"Good."

There was a brief lull in conversation. Hinata continued wiping what was left of her tears, while Itachi stood and stared at her. She either didn't mind her current state of undress or she hadn't noticed it. Either way, Itachi wasn't going to leave until she'd gotten rid of that look on her face. He'd have to close the blinds, too.

As he was thinking of what he'd do to make sure she didn't see another disparaging sight like that again, Hinata spoke, "You're very kind, Itachi-sama. Thank you for checking up on me."

"... It was nothing."

The lights flickered. They both looked up.

"Do you have candles in your room?" she asked worriedly. "I found a lot in one of the drawers. Take a few with you just in case."

Hinata moved, things _bounced,_ and Itachi swallowed. He was caught in a strange dilemma that he never thought he'd be in. He didn't want to tell her to cover up. It went against everything he felt as a man, but if he didn't tell her, then he was afraid that his mother's nagging voice would haunt him in his sleep. There was the added bonus of him seeing her reaction, but damn it all, the _view._

Itachi pulled at his collar. His blood was rushing in his veins, like river water through a too small sieve.

He _had_ to tell her.

"Hina—"

"Itachi!" he heard, and his eyes snapped open to find his wife staring at him with a disapproving frown on her lips. "Are you listening to me?"

"I'm getting thin," he said. A part of his mind, it seemed, still somehow functioned within the present even when the rest of it was preoccupied. "I need to eat more when I'm on missions because you can't feed me." Itachi smoothed the crease between her brows with his thumb. "Right?"

Hinata wrinkled her nose ever so slightly at him. She was definitely annoyed. It was a shame that he found the action adorable. Her voice didn't grate on his ears either. Rather, it was unfairly beautiful. Though perhaps that was to be expected, given the rest of her.

Itachi leaned down to peck her lips.

"I'll live."

"I know you will," she asserted. "I'm just trying to make sure you don't collapse. One meal a day isn't enough, Itachi. Your last mission was four months long. I can't pack that much food for you."

"That was a special case."

"You always get sent on missions like that though. The shortest you've been sent on this year was three weeks." There was bottled frustration in her voice. Anxiety, too. But she didn't ask him why, already knowing that he wouldn't be able to give her any details concerning his time in ANBU. "The doctor said you needed more protein... and iron. A lot of iron."

Itachi cursed mandatory check-ups in his mind. It was standard procedure for all ninjas returning from long missions, especially if the mission was rank A or higher. And at this point in his career, Itachi almost exclusively took S-class, which meant a _lot_ of doctor's visits.

"You've gotten paler," she said suddenly. Perhaps knowing that she wouldn't be able to get him to change his bad eating habits on the field just yet. He was unusually absent-minded at the moment.

"I was in the land of snow. It isn't because of the lack of meals."

' _Stubborn,'_ were what her eyes told him then, though what she said was much different. "What were you thinking about?"

He hummed, instead of answering. Itachi placed a hand over her cheek and used his thumb to trace the soft skin below her eyes, wiping imaginary tears away. He'd done it enough times by now to know exactly how puffy her cheeks got. He was glad that she had nothing to be sad about now. Aggravated, yes, but not sad.

"You," he said plainly.

The blush that spread across her cheeks and down her chest was expected, and he followed it all the way to the edge of her clothes with his eyes. When it came to him, Hinata was readable to a fault.

 _Rose-tinted glass,_ he thought, before kissing her.

* * *

 _A/N: Due to other obligations, I haven't written proper fiction since I finished my third manuscript (about six months ago.) This was just done to get me back into the swing of things, so I wouldn't completely butcher the next book chapter I work on because of how ridiculously rusty my skills are. I friggin' hate it. Excuse any typos. This was written in half an hour, and I didn't bother going over it. Again, this was just a practice piece. Don't expect greatness._

 _I'm still not accepting requests for this, so please don't send any._

 _ **If any of you are interested in my writing beyond fanfiction, then I do have a fantasy novel published which you guys can check out. URL is on my profile.**_

 _Reviews are appreciated._


	32. Hinata's Journal 2

_Disclaimer: I don't own Naruto._

* * *

 _ **Present Tense. First Person. Hinata's POV.**_

 _ **PART 2**_

* * *

 _March 6_ _th_ _– Cloudy. It looks like it's going to rain soon. I need to find Hanabi and hand her an umbrella. I don't want her to get sick._

It's been exactly one year since I've written anything. Ever since I lost (and found) my last journal, I've gotten too lazy to write any entries. But Itachi took the time during one of his missions to buy this for me—it's from Tea country!—so I've decided to take this up again. I promise not to misplace this one.

Happy Birthday, new journal!

[A drawing of a sunflower and a birthday cake with a single candle fills the rest of the page.]

;-;-;-;-;-;-;-;-;-;-;-;-;-;

 _March 14_ _th_ _– Drizzling again. Everything is soggy._

I went out with Hanabi today.

We went to a sweets shop that her friends found. I'm so glad she doesn't think it's not cool to bring me along with her. Itachi said he had a problem like that with Sasuke when he was younger.

I ordered a cake soaked in white frosting and peppered with small chocolate flakes that I didn't know the name of. Hanabi got something similar, except it had little flowers on the side. They had an assortment of tiny colored sugar cubes that looked like confetti on top of the cream. I wish I could've brought a box home with me.

Hanabi has decided to sleep in my room tonight. She's in the shower now. She said she wants to tell me all about a new book. It's apparently something about Konoha's political history. It sounded like homework to me, but I'm glad to see that she's happy about it. (Probably because father gave it to her, but happy is happy.)

I still remember reading fairy tales to her as a child. I wonder if she'd like me to tonight.

;-;-;-;-;-;-;-;-;-;-;-;-;-;

 _March 27_ _th_ _– Beautiful day, despite the rain showers._

I saw a pair of birds dart across the sky today. They were so stark against the blue that their color lingered in my eyes. I had to blink until it disappeared. It was like someone had struck a brush across my vision.

Shisui laughed when I mentioned it. I like his laugh. It's strong and vibrant. His grin is always so wide, too. It's one of the most welcoming smiles I've ever seen. Just looking at it makes me feel better.

I wonder if Itachi feels the same?

;-;-;-;-;-;-;-;-;-;-;-;-;-;

 _April 8_ _th_ _– Humid. Everything is stuck to everything. I don't like it._

Itachi pulled me aside after yesterday's dinner with his family. He told me how much it stung for him to hear me talk to Sasuke about the wound I suffered from Neji-nii as a child. I was surprised because Sasuke and I had been out on the verandah at the time. (I didn't even known Itachi was there, let alone close enough to listen!)

He told me that he had been tasked to watch over me during that first night. I'd looked dead already, he said. Itachi has a very vivid memory. He even remembered me crying.

I was very embarrassed, journal.

But then he told me about how, if I were ever to leave him alone in this world now, he'd take his sword and wander away from Konoha without a word. And he wouldn't stop until he found somewhere that didn't have a trace of me in it. It felt like a tidal wave of grief, journal. All despair and hard anger out of nowhere. The fear I'd felt from him was so sharp.

Anyone that says the Uchiha are cold and insensitive, don't know them. Every word from Itachi felt as if it had been dragged out in thorns. My heart still hurts from remembering.

It's scary to be loved.

 _Same day – Almost midnight_

I'm sorry for being depressing, journal. I strongly suspect Itachi reads you, so I'll try not to be so miserable. I don't want him to think I am. Not even a little bit.

Anyway, I'm back again because Itachi hugged me out of nowhere and apologized for what he'd suddenly said yesterday. He said he'd spend the whole day with me tomorrow to make new memories that would replace all of the ones that ached.

I told him that if he was going to make statements like that, then he should just promise to stay forever. I don't know where that came from, but I think it's time for me to distance myself from Ino. I'd blushed so much and so quickly that I felt faint. I thought I was past all of that!

Itachi had looked taken aback for a moment by my words. I'm proud of that. Surprised is a nice look on him, but I wonder how he bounces back so quickly?

... But that outburst about me passing did worry me. He's been acting strange. Maybe _that_ incident is still weighing on his mind? I'll do my best to reassure him.

;-;-;-;-;-;-;-;-;-;-;-;-;-;

 _April 9_ _th_ _– Cloudy skies. No rain._ _Hanabi hugged me on my way out!_

Itachi and I spent the day out today.

And that is all I'll write about that, journal.

[A smiley face follows the entry.]

;-;-;-;-;-;-;-;-;-;-;-;-;-;

 _April 16_ _th_ _– Sunlight peeked through the clouds for almost a full five minutes. Five minutes!_

Today, I learned that life as a fiancée involves a lot of waiting.

Itachi is out on another solo mission again. I think he's Lord Sixth's favorite. He gets sent out so often, and on such long missions at that. He barely has any breaks in between. I miss him dearly. Team 7 is out on a mission, too. I think Mikoto is anxious with both of them gone. Hanabi and I have been visiting, and I think that makes her feel better. She asked me to sleep over later. I'm looking forward to it.

I went to visit Kurenai-sensei this afternoon. Mirai has been getting so big, and Kurenai-sensei looks sad (yet proud) about it. They're both so beautiful.

Mirai gave me a present. I don't know what for, but Kurenai-sensei said she'd seen it on the market and that it reminded her of me. She's such a sweetheart. I opened it in front of her, and she practically shouted as soon as I raised the lid.

It was a deep purple ribbon.

I'll wear it when Itachi returns.

;-;-;-;-;-;-;-;-;-;-;-;-;-;

 _April 21_ _st_ _– I got pelted by the rain. Pelted._

I can't stop thinking about how father said mother's name the other day. It was an offhanded comment when Shino came to drop by a pack of black hair ties that I said I needed more of yesterday. Mine have been getting worn, ever since I started a new training routine that Itachi suggested. Shino is always so kind.

Apparently, father once gave mother the same thing on that exact same day because she'd run out as well. I haven't heard him mention mother in years. I wonder if that's time's influence or pain's. I smiled at him, and he smiled back.

It was a nice moment.

;-;-;-;-;-;-;-;-;-;-;-;-;-;

 _April 26_ _th_ _– Spotty weather. I'm squinting at you rain._

Itachi comes home tomorrow.

Shino and Kiba took me out today. We went to our usual restaurant right along the edge of the Aburame district. The staff must've done a thorough cleaning because the rails were glinting in the light. I couldn't stop touching them.

Kiba looked incredibly tired when he came in. His wiry frame had molded to the chair like wet leaves to the ground. Someone was stirring up trouble by falsifying reports, he said, then placed a finger over his mouth with a promise to tell us more when he could. Kiba looked stressed, but he's strong. I know he can do it. And if he needs help, then he knows that he can always count on us. (Shino and I assured him of that, regardless.)

['Go Kiba!' is written in large, loopy letters beside a taped on photo of Team 8.]

;-;-;-;-;-;-;-;-;-;-;-;-;-;

 _April 27_ _th_ _– It's pouring. I hope none of the clan children get caught outside in this weather._

Takase gave me a note from itachi. It said that he'd be waiting out the storm. I'm glad. I don't want him to risk coming home in such bad weather.

I wrote, 'please hurry home to me as soon as it clears' in my reply.

Takase told me that Itachi had smirked.

Oh, just imagining it is making me blush.

[The ANBU insignia fills a portion of the page.]

;-;-;-;-;-;-;-;-;-;-;-;-;-;

 _May 2_ _nd_ _– Oh, clear skies, how I've missed you._

I heard Itachi curse out of frustration today.

It happened right after he found me reading one of the books in his apartment. I smiled at him, and he was about to return it, only for an ANBU member to appear out of nowhere and knock on the half-open door. Itachi's voice hadn't been loud, but it was... strange. Unpleasant. Like vultures feasting. I don't know how to feel about it.

Itachi tilted his head at the poor ninja with the stoniest expression I'd ever seen. Mr. ANBU yelped. I don't blame him. There's something ominous about the way Itachi cocks his head to the side.

As it turns out, the ANBU was there for me.

;-;-;-;-;-;-;-;-;-;-;-;-;-;

 _May 9_ _th_ _– Snow. Endless snow._

I've always liked snow, but I've realized now that I should attach 'in moderation' to that opinion. Because I'm tired of the cold. I knew Snow country would be full of... well, snow, but I didn't realize how difficult it was to constantly _be_ in it. I feel like a penguin. A fake one that can't stand the chill.

I had to exchange my sweater for something thicker. It's been making me feel heavier than I am, and it's hard to walk in fur boots. Oh, but I'm sorry for just complaining, journal! I promise I'll stop right now (for this entry at least.)

I'm currently out on a mission. It's simple enough, or the first part is. I need to deliver a scroll (done), then rendezvous with an ANBU cell because they need a tracker (heading to the meeting spot tomorrow.)

Itachi saw me off at Konoha's gates. He told me to be careful and to find him once I return. He didn't look very pleased by my leaving.

;-;-;-;-;-;-;-;-;-;-;-;-;-;

 _May 14_ _th_ _– found the target (a red dragonfly, as it turns out). Camping out for the night. It's snowing again. I think these little flakes have more weight than they should._

Some of the ANBU asked me what it was like to be engaged to Uchiha Itachi. I haven't quite figured out how to answer that question yet, but I always say that I'm very lucky. Itachi says he's lucky, too. I hope others see it that way.

The ANBU fantasized about being on a team with him. They said they thought they'd feel useless, but I don't think so. Itachi is very considerate of his teammates, and always makes sure they feel valuable.

But Itachi hasn't been on a team in five months, so I can see why they feel like he doesn't want to be burdened. In truth, he hasn't been on one since _that_ incident. I don't blame him. I still remember that haunted look in his eyes when he came home.

"They were nailed onto the ceiling," he said, "and their blood poured down, leaking over the walls."

He refused to sleep. I was so worried, journal. I had to wait for him to collapse. It was only when he awoke that he accepted the food I placed before him.

I am infinitely tired of watching the people I love suffer.

;-;-;-;-;-;-;-;-;-;-;-;-;-;

 _May 19th_ _– On the country's border now. It's still snowing, though not by much. The roads are slick._

I keep thinking about Hanabi's hair, and how she'd tied it up two weeks ago. I have the urge to tell her how much I love her hair like that, journal. I can't wait to get home.

Also, Neji-nii has been losing weight recently. I didn't think he had any to lose, but he was quick to prove me wrong. All of that taijutsu training can't be good for him. I'll make him anything he wants when I get back.

[The entry ends with a doodle of a roasted chicken and a cinnamon bun.]

;-;-;-;-;-;-;-;-;-;-;-;-;-;

 _May 24th_ _– The guard at the gate gave me a sunflower with a note attached._

Itachi's apparently out on a mission again. I'm disappointed that I didn't get to see him.

I went out to buy ingredients to cook a big dinner for everyone at home. I told Takase that I'll be back inside of the Hyuga compound before evening. I know he doesn't like being left alone there. I tried to tell Itachi that I don't need his summon with me when he's away, especially considering that he might have use of him, but whenever he says it's more for "his sake and not mine" I lose all of my resolve. I need a good defense against that.

His head can be harder than Hanabi's sometimes. (But I love that very much.)

;-;-;-;-;-;-;-;-;-;-;-;-;-;

 _June 23_ _rd_ _– The world is so bright today!_

Itachi came home! A full two and a half weeks early!

When I returned to my room after lunch with Neji-nii, Sasuke, and Shisui (a very, _very_ strange combination), there he was laying on the bed, reading a book. I ran and hugged him before I even realized what I was doing! Journal, save me from myself.

He said he finished early to be there with me and that he'd be hiding out for a few days in his apartment, so I shouldn't tell anyone—except Shisui. I don't think I'll be able to hide my smile, but I'll try! I'm worried that he pushed himself too hard, though I didn't say that. He always dismisses my concerns about his health with a wave. I'll just have to make sure he eats and gets proper rest over the next few days.

I can't wait.

* * *

 _A/N: I just realized that I need a chapter with Neji. I'll get around to it when I find the time. I'm honestly surprised no one requested it—or maybe someone had, and I just wasn't interested at the time._ _Anyway, more practice pieces for you guys. I'm slowly getting back into the groove of fiction writing. I'll be there in a bit, I'm sure._

 _ **If any of you are interested in my writing beyond fanfiction, then I do have a fantasy novel published which you guys can check out. URL is on my profile.**_

 _Please Review._


	33. Fitting

_Disclaimer: I don't own Naruto._

* * *

 _ **Request by: crystalblue19**_

 _ **Warning for mature scenes.**_

* * *

Itachi looked over the stacks of mission folders in front of him, while the Sixth Hokage droned on about an ANBU cell that he'd recently fallen out of contact with in an area just outside of Kiri. He was briefing him because he wanted to push the matter of their rescue onto him, he was sure, but frankly, Itachi wasn't interested in leaving the village. He'd only just returned from a three-week long excursion, and had a lot of clan matters to attend to. A few of the Elders were plotting behind his back, trying to secure him a wife from a different village to strengthen their political ties outside of Konoha. They clearly weren't satisfied with his choice, but instead of saying that to his face, they decided to take matters into their own hands and make promises that he had no intention of keeping.

They were _fools_. And he needed to put them in their place, before they did any… lasting damage.

He also had a matter to settle with Hinata, who he hadn't seen in the last the last six weeks, since she'd been away for her own mission before he left. He'd been waiting almost two months to visit her just so he could surprise her with a quick—perhaps even faux urgent—call. Itachi considered telling her that right there and then would be the only time he had in a while. If he did that, then he was sure he could convince her to come out with him, regardless of any prior plans she might've had.

This may have been insensitive of him, but Kakashi had been working him to the bone. Even though he was loathed to admit it, he needed a break. Itachi could _feel_ his sanity slowly slipping. In fact, he distinctly recalled reaching for his sword when a child in the market unexpectedly ran into him not two days ago. Thankfully, he hadn't brought it with him. But the action hadn't gone unnoticed by Shisui, who eyed him with the sort of critical gaze Itachi thought only belonged to disappointed fathers.

Itachi wasn't entirely averse to the idea of taking another mission, but he needed to do something simple to take off the edge, before heading back to the front lines.

He looked through the stacks of missions again, keenly aware that Kakashi had fallen silent. It seemed his lack of response was enough to even make the _slave-driver-Sixth_ pause and stare.

"Those are for Chunin, Itachi," Kakashi informed him. As if he didn't know that already. "Those folders have nothing higher than B-class."

 _Your talents would be wasted,_ were the unspoken words, though they rang as clearly as if he'd said them aloud. Itachi ignored them. Then, just to spite him, he moved even lower, until he was browsing the folders for genin and newly-minted Chunin.

Kakashi raised an eyebrow.

Itachi scanned the pages, roving through each word as if he'd just unearthed an ancient ninjutsu scroll from his clan's treasury. He needed to find something fast, before Kakashi gathered his wits and _forced_ him to do something he didn't want to. He loved the village and the people in it, but his mental capacities were being stretched beyond their limits. More and more, he found himself having to draw away from his family and friends to breathe deeply in solitude. Oh, he'd tried asking for a break, but Kakashi always, _always_ cut it short.

Itachi didn't just need this. He _deserved_ it.

As if the Sage decided to throw him a bone, he zeroed in on a folder half-tucked between two piles of missions from the various ninja clans within the village. It had the Hyuga crest emblazoned proudly on the side just below the words: _Not Urgent. Classification Lower-C. Woman preferred._

He opened it.

His eyes steadily widened with each word.

"Ita—"

"This one," he cut in, holding up the folder, "I'll take this one."

He tossed it onto Kakashi's desk, then made for the exit just as the stunned man opened it. Whatever noise of surprise he made was drowned by the door slamming shut.

* * *

The Hyuga manor was glorious.

Unwelcoming, cold, and almost sterile, but glorious nevertheless.

Upon entering, the guard at the door looked at him with surprise, then skepticism, which ultimately turned into a knowing smirk that Itachi had to consciously keep himself from rolling his eyes at. He was led in without question—Itachi was a clan heir, the fiancé of theirs, and on an _official_ mission after all.

He was left to wait, while one of the branch members gathered who he came here to see.

Itachi searched the room. He inspected things that hadn't even garnered a second glance from him during his annual visits here for marriage meetings. Like the hanging plants left to dry or the salves in the far corner. There were no pictures; nothing to suggest that a happy family lived here. But there were piles of books and tea sets… that in itself showed just how traditional the Hyuga were.

He looked at a small chest with multiple drawers, then began opening them out of sheer boredom. The lower cabinets were stuffed with sewing materials and a carton of forgotten hair ties, while the higher ones were chockfull of old buttons. Worthless. By the time he reached the final drawer, he didn't even care enough to look anymore. He simply closed it and circled the room again.

There was something about the way all of their expensive scrolls hung over their sparsely decorated rooms that made him think of used coal after the feast. When the embers all died away, only to leave behind a mass of stone-cold black that was always hidden from the eyes of guests. Itachi wasn't exactly glad to have the privilege, but as soon as he was led away from the main hall and into a back room, he rethought that.

This room was brighter and warmer than anything he'd seen in the Hyuga manor before. Pricy kimono fabrics hung from wooden stands. Hair ornaments were arranged neatly on a table. There was a small platform in the middle of the room that was surrounded by three full-length mirrors.

Itachi decided to take a seat on a nearby chair, more the buckling of his knees than his own will. But just as he had, the door opened to reveal who he'd been waiting to see.

"Hinata," he called.

She halted. Itachi watched her eyes widen to an almost impossible degree, before she took a step back in hesitance. Her plain robes seemed to move all around her, as if she commanded the way they flowed.

" _I—I_ tachi-sama!" Her eyes moved frantically about the room. "What are you doing here? I thought—"

"How many times have I told you to call me Itachi when it's just the two of us?" he asked, casually flicking a piece of fabric aside. "And your clan wanted to get you fitted for new kimonos, didn't they?"

"They did, but…"

"I'm here to fulfill that request."

A noise of surprise that he couldn't quite explain escaped her lips. She covered her face with her hands, but not before he caught a glimpse of the unholy blush that stained her cheeks.

"They… I thought..." she trailed off. "Father asked them for a _woman._ "

"The folder said preferred, not required."

"You can't be here, Itachi! We'll get caught." She stared at the walls as if they might suddenly move and attempt to crush her. "They have eyes everywhere."

"Then they know I'm the one doing the fitting. If they haven't stepped in to stop me by now, then they're fine with it."

"But—"

Itachi smoothly stood up and walked over to her. He leaned over to whisper in her ear. "It's good to see you, Hinata."

The embarrassed look she gave him then made his blood burn.

He tilted his head at the platform in a silent command. Hinata eyed him warily for another moment, before taking tentative steps towards the fitting area. Satisfied, Itachi grabbed a roll of measuring tape from a nearby desk and unfurled it before her eyes.

 _She looks terrified,_ he mused.

That didn't mean he was going to stop.

He stepped behind her and slid it over the width of her shoulders first, then her forearm, trying to get her used to the feel. When she relaxed a bit, he slipped it around her waist, just below her breasts. The way she straightened made him smirk.

"Why are you getting fitted?" he asked to take her mind off of his hands. "Don't you have enough kimonos?"

"I've been getting bigger recently," she admitted, looking down in shame.

 _Which part of you exactly?_ Itachi was tempted to ask, but thought better of it.

"Really?" he drawled instead.

He shimmied the tape up to her breasts to see for himself. Hinata squeaked in response, and Itachi pressed the ends at the back just a little tighter. His eyes widened at the number, but he didn't speak. The silence carried on, before…

"Itachi?" Hinata called, wondering why he'd stopped.

His fingers twitched at the sound of his name in her voice. His jaw clenched to stifle a groan before it could escape his lips. He didn't know why he thought this would be good for him. It wasn't taking the edge of at all, just replacing it with a different problem entirely.

"Kimonos are made to accommodate growth," he said in a poor attempt to distract his wandering mind.

"Actually," she paused to wet her lips. The way her tongue darted out, just on the edge of his vision, made his stomach churn.

"Actually?" he prompted.

"The Elders were hoping to get new kimonos that would more likely suit an… Uchiha's taste. Our clans differ color-wise, and they were concerned about my clothing."

Itachi smirked. "They should've offered me this mission from the start then."

"They didn't?" she asked, surprise evident in her tone. "How did you find out about it?"

He didn't answer because, Sage, help him. Even her ears were red.

"You suit my tastes just fine, Hinata," he whispered in her ear.

Itachi circled her waist, the measuring tape now forgotten as it was crushed between their bodies. His arms rested comfortably against her hips, while his head dropped to the space between her neck and shoulder. She trembled under his touch, but she didn't pull away. Itachi breathed her in—all lavender and vanilla and _woman._ There was a scent that was distinctly hers mixed in that clouded his senses.

She was so…

 _Intoxicating,_ his mind helpfully supplied.

Itachi fiddled with the knot of her robes. He hadn't seen her in so long. His mind was already in the gutter; his body didn't take long to follow. Itachi pressed his lower half flush against hers, and she gasped at the hardness of him. He caged her in his arms, cutting off any thoughts she might've had about escape.

"I've missed you," he said, while nibbling on her ear in an attempt to coax her deeper into his arms. When she didn't, he settled for outright saying it, "Relax, Hinata. It's been so long, I just…"

One frisky hand reached up to grope her breasts. She drew in a sharp breath. But Itachi didn't stop there. He slid his palm over the entirety of her chest, rubbing and feeling her nipples perk up from beneath the thin cotton. He was tempted to squeeze the tip of one, but not yet. Itachi settled for briefly sucking on her collar instead, then drew away with a satisfying _pop._

"… Find it hard to control myself," he finished.

By the time his fingers slid to caress her stomach and rub the soft skin just above her slit, she was already panting. Her eyes were half-lidded. He knew she wanted this just as much because her knees wobbled, and she leaned back, so he could support half of her weight. Her ass settled deliciously on his thigh, while his hard-on dug into her lower back. His pants were feeling increasingly tight. It was already throbbing. So much that he was sure she could feel it pulse.

" _B—B_ ut here, Itachi?" she asked, gripping his wandering hand with both of hers. Her hold was so tight that one of his knuckles cracked.

"I'll have you anywhere," he coerced.

"There's no lock on the door!"

"Then," he broke her hold on his hand, "be quiet."

Itachi kissed her in full then. His tongue slipped into her parted lips. Hinata sighed into his mouth, and he pulled her closer. Itachi swallowed every noise she made, memorized every drag of her fingers across his skin. He stored up the moments like a man turning for one last glimpse at the sea.

He barely registered the fact that he'd pulled off his shirt or that Hinata's robes had loosened enough to expose the thin material of her bra. He pushed the flimsy thing down, not even bothering to take it off completely. He didn't need to anyway. It gave easily under the weight of her chest.

When she pulled away to breathe, he chased her, appalled by his own desire. He could bear it, he thought, if the world diminished to only this. Because Itachi knew, without a shadow of a doubt, that he'd be perfectly content to live the rest of his life in the spaces between these soft, measured breaths.

It wasn't long before he was falling to his knees before her. She stared at him in wonder, attempting to pull him back up, only for him to stubbornly shake his head as he pulled apart her robes to expose her panties. Those, he ripped from the side and let fall away.

"Itachi!" she chastised.

"You don't need them," was all he said, before diving into her core, tongue first.

A raw moan escaped her, as hot as lava to his sensitive ears.

He needed to hear more of it.

His tongue fell into a steady rhythm of circling her clit, then flicking over it. He kept his hands on her thighs, in part to keep them spread, and in part to make sure she didn't buckle completely under the pressure his tongue was creating. Hinata's fingers tugged at his hair, while the other massaged her breast.

Itachi pulled away just long enough to mutter, "Look at the mirror."

She obeyed. More out of reflex than anything else.

He felt the moment her breath was taken away. Hinata's entire body seemed to shudder above him, and he couldn't help the crooked grin that split his lips. While he knew that Hinata couldn't see it, he was at least satisfied that she could likely _feel_ it.

His tongue delved in once more. But Itachi didn't bring her over the edge, only to the brink. She couldn't cum yet. They'd only just begun. He was going to make her scream for it first.

She almost collapsed when he stood. Itachi held her upright. Her eyes were filled with a mix of tension and disappointment, and he laughed openly at the sight. Hinata huffed, and when she made a move to return the favor, he only gripped her hips to keep her in place.

"Any requests?" he asked with a roguish smirk that was entirely unlike him. The sight alone made her tremble in anticipation.

Hinata quivered under the intensity of his gaze, but eventually, after her mouth sought his a second time, she whispered against his lips, "Carry me."

Itachi obliged.

It wasn't long before her legs were wrapped around his waist, and they were a mess of breathless pants and intertwined limbs. Itachi inched backwards until his back hit a wall. One of the mirrors fell and shattered on their way, but he could hardly take his mind away from a very naked and very needy Hinata clutching at him like he was her only lifeline in an endless sea.

Her arm stretched out, seeking purchase elsewhere, somewhere she could grip that was far away from his talented tongue. She unintentionally hit a kimono stand. The priceless fabric fell to the floor with a heavy thud, but that, too, was ignored, when Itachi dragged all of her back into himself. He pulled her as close as humanly possible to him.

Itachi grunted, then turned, so he could press her against the wall. Her back hit it more roughly than he intended, but he couldn't stop now. He didn't bother asking if she was ready for him. The juices that slid down her legs and dampened his pants were enough.

Itachi pulled what was left of his clothes down just enough to expose his twitching cock.

Hinata whined in his arms. Desperation at its most beautiful.

He pulled away for a moment to take in her half-lidded gaze and red cheeks, before he plunged deep inside of her. No words, no warning, just a grunt of satisfaction and a steady pace. His mind came close to bursting at the feel of soft, hot feminine heat. It enveloped him entirely, stretching to swallow him whole.

She grew slicker with each thrust of his hips, until he was sliding in and out with so much ease that he didn't care how hard he was diving into her. Her body rammed into the wall with a vengeance, but every cry was muffled into his shoulder. At least she remembered to be quiet, but Itachi doubted the mind of any adult that passed by this room and didn't know what they were doing. The sound of flesh slapping against flesh was so loud and so erotic that his cock throbbed from the noise alone.

His nails dug into her thighs, as he groaned. Low and throaty. She was mumbling his name like a mantra at this point. Like the feel of her wasn't enough to encourage him to keep going. Every move made him plow harder into her.

When Itachi squeezed one of her perfect globes and tugged at the crown, Hinata finally let out a loud moan, no longer caring about how loud she was or who heard her.

He almost came at the sound of her gasping in his ear. Itachi shut his eyes to control himself. After giving her nipple one last pinch, that same hand moved to flick across her clit. He wasn't surprised when her nails dug into his shoulders and she let out a wild scream. A surge of pleasure rocked her, and it wasn't long before she was contracting around him.

Itachi kept going. He couldn't stop now even if he wanted to. He went faster and harder, riding her through her orgasm. She writhed before him. When her back finally arched, he couldn't quite contain his laugh when he hit her right back into the wall with a particularly brutal thrust.

Hinata could hardly muster an ounce of concern. She clearly hadn't felt it through the pleasure, or if she had, then she didn't care.

He kept pounding into her, rough and merciless, capitalizing on her sensitivity from her recent finish. Both of them were slick with sweat. Itachi could already feel her next orgasm building up. She was _s_ _o_ responsive.

"Ugh…" Itachi grunted.

He buried his face in her collar, and she responded by drawing him closer. Hinata ran her hands tantalizingly over his torso in a sweet caress that didn't at all fit the desperation between them. Itachi kept his pace. A shock of heat bubbled from inside of his core and spread throughout his body. She trembled with him. Her toes curled, as she arched her back a second time, and when those tight walls gripped his cock to an unbearable degree _again,_ he lost himself completely.

Itachi let out a guttural moan.

His mind slipped away from him, as a load of thick cum burst from his member, making her pussy even hotter than before. She felt so fucking good. He needed more. Whatever she offered, even if it was everything, he knew that it would never be enough for him. He kept moving. Distantly, he registered their shared juices dripping onto the floor and seeping into the cloth of his pants, but he couldn't find it in himself to care. If someone questioned why he needed to borrow a pair of clothes, then he'd damn well tell them.

His thrusts eventually slowed to a reluctant stop and by the time his mind returned to reality, his vision was clouded with her skin. She was absently rubbing his back and shoulders, soothing whatever leftover tension remained. She was _always_ so attuned to his needs, and oh, so attentive. He _had_ to kiss her. A lingering kiss that made his chest feel close to bursting.

Itachi didn't slip out of her welcoming heat, not wanting to just yet.

"Your," she paused to breathe, "returns are always so memorable, Itachi."

A half-grin tilted his lips.

"Shall we christen the rest of your house?"

" _W—W_ hat?"

"I still need to get the rest of your measurements," he said, pulling away from her neck, so he could plant his forearms on the wall beside her head. He trapped her with them, so she could only look at him. His hips dug into her again, keeping her in place with the strength of his lower half alone. "I want to know how you look in different types of lighting, too."

His back curved over her, so he was level with her eyes.

"What do you say?"

"It's over twenty rooms!" she said in disbelief.

The smirk that stretched his lips then told her that he knew.

* * *

 _A/N: Requests are_ _ **not**_ _open. This is just an exception for a friend of mine. I wrote this in approximately an hour and a half, and I didn't go over it again. I apologize for any typos._

 _ **If any of you are interested in my writing beyond fanfiction, then I do have a fantasy novel published which you guys can check out. URL is on my profile.**_

 _Please Review._


	34. Pre-Eval

_Disclaimer: I don't own Naruto._

* * *

It was astounding how easily one could grow to hate themselves.

Itachi was especially familiar with this. During his off days, whenever he'd come home drenched in sweat and reeking of blood only to catch his reflection in the mirror and see the ghosts of all those he killed staring back at him. Their shadows were starker some days than they were others. They'd pierce through his iron-clad mask of discipline to dim everything around him, even himself. The shadows always started with his eyes—a private pride—and then extended downward to consume everything but his mind. Perhaps even the dead struggled with the rate at which he processed the world around him. But that didn't mean they didn't stop trying until only a blackened, worn out husk of him remained.

They'd never reached that point of course.

Itachi was nothing if not efficient at mastering himself.

Ninjas, especially those of his caliber, were psychologically evaluated every three years. Though that could be shortened should they experience something especially traumatic, that was the general rule. In all of his long years as a ninja of Konoha, he'd never failed a single one of his evaluations. In fact, he'd had nothing short of a perfect score for the past twenty years. It wasn't because he wasn't haunted or disturbed—oh, he was, and anyone who believed otherwise was a _fool._ It was just that he knew _exactly_ what to say to get them to give him the green light.

Even if he did somehow slip up, being taken off duty was a far off prospect for him. An illusion that danced upon the wind. He was too… _everything._ The village needed his expertise. Yes, there would always be ninjas to replace those that fell, but none could replace Uchiha Itachi, as he'd been told time and time again by everyone around him. He was a symbol of sorts. Not as grand as the Hokage of course—he wasn't that arrogant, but he was unreasonably close. It wasn't only his clan that looked to him for guidance, but all of the ninjas in the village.

"Don't die," he distinctly recalled a former ANBU Commander of his say. He was barely seventeen at the time, but he'd risen up the ranks like a hawk spreading its wings to intimidate its prey. "You're a genius, Uchiha, but if a _child_ can keep his life in the ANBU for as long as you have, then this lot of men and women will be motivated to keep up."

That commander of his had been afflicted by a lethal poison not two days later. If he tried, Itachi could still see his bloated purple corpse bobbing up and down the river he'd thrown him in. He hadn't bothered cutting open his stomach and filling it with rocks, already knowing that once his life well and truly ended, the jutsu placed upon him would ensure that his body disintegrated into dust.

Itachi lived and breathed death—and death followed him like a glad companion. He made his job easier after all. But sometimes he thought that the twisted spirit didn't guide those he killed and tortured and _maimed_ to the next world, but left them bound to him instead. So that whenever he looked in the mirror during a particularly dreary day, he'd feel their burdens like stones on his shoulders and hate what he saw.

Men that had cost him but moments to cow, and yet their ghosts haunted him for a lifetime.

 _Perhaps,_ Itachi considered, _the spirit following me wants to see how_ _ **I**_ _will die._

Now, that was a thought.

A terrifying one, to be sure, but one that amused him nonetheless. That _thing_ would be waiting for a very long time, if he had anything to say about it. Still, it was efficient at making him hate himself, and he'd let it keep that tiny victory because if he didn't, then the cost might be far more than he was willing to give.

 _What would the psych department think if I told them this?_ he thought bitterly.

The bastards there were worse than genins with all of their complaining. They always had a word to say to him whenever he brought in a member of the ANBU, who'd lost touch with reality. As if he could do something about their deteriorating mental condition except, perhaps, make it worse. His glare always shut them up, but then they'd complain behind his back while they worked, which ticked him off in ways that he would never admit out loud.

There was a shortage of psych evaluators in the ANBU. In fact, among all of the squads, there wasn't even _one._ Medical ninjas interested in the human mind _and_ serving their village through more ferocious means—as opposed to holing up in a hospital—typically entered the interrogation unit. ANBU were for ninjas with a more _upfront_ skillset.

But that left ANBU evaluations to be handled by Jonin, or more often, Chunin, owing to the startling amount of recent apprentices taken in. And what did those _greenhorns_ know about the life of an ANBU, save for the occasional censored story they heard murmured about in the halls of the Hokage's building? Absolutely nothing.

Itachi had burned, bled, and killed for his village—more than most ninjas that had come long before him. The least they could do was allow him his dark thoughts without fear of being admonished like a child for not "taking better care of his mental health." How was he even supposed to do that when he was sent on back-to-back S-class missions all the time?

It wasn't as if he asked for much in return for his services. He was a simple man, and had the desires to match. He wanted a salary that paralleled the effort he put into missions, a home that he knew would be protected while he was away, and the continued prosperity of the villagers.

Yes, he might have thought of himself as a godforsaken abomination some days. Yes, he could really loathe his face when he looked at it in the mirror even when he wasn't covered in grime and blood. And yes, he sometimes had strange thoughts about a spirit haunting him and whispering the words of those he'd killed over and over again.

But it was natural. It was a part of his _job._ It wouldn't go away no matter how much he talked about it. What was the point of even going there, of spending the only day off he'd had in months in that sterile office, when he already knew what the outcome would be— _Uchiha Itachi is mentally sound and fit for duty._

So why for the Sage of Six Path's sake, did he have to waste his time?

He was startled out of his thoughts by fingers smoothing out the crease between his brows. They lingered there for a few seconds, rubbing until he relaxed his face. Itachi's gaze focused to find Hinata staring at him with a pensive look in her eyes. He grabbed her hand before she could pull away and brought the pads of her fingers to his lips, so he could press a kiss against them. They smelt like vanilla lotion.

"Everything okay?" she asked.

No. It never would be, but with her here, beside him...

"For now."

She smiled, and when he leaned down to kiss her, it didn't diminish in the slightest. Rather, he felt it widen against his lips. Itachi loved her for it.

"Are you going to the psych department now?"

He nodded, as she grabbed a spare hair tie for him and pushed it up around his left wrist.

"I know you don't like it," she went on. "But they're only trying to help."

"It's a waste of time, Hinata." The reluctant hum of agreement he heard from her satisfied him.

"Can you not send a clone?"

"The last time I did," the corners of his lips twisted, "my own clone had glared at me, and then proceeded to outright refuse my order."

She laughed at his expense. "Oh, I'm sorry. It's just… that's so hard to imagine, Itachi."

"Shall I show you?"

Before she could even answer, his hand was already up and forming a seal. A perfect replica of him appeared beside her. Itachi knew that he was simply stalling now. He also didn't give a damn.

"Itachi!" she called, delighted at the presence of another him. His mouth curved upward into a small half-smile at that. Hinata faced the clone with just as much tenderness, and asked, "Could you please go to the psych department for him?"

His clone's perfect mask faltered for a moment, as he turned to glare at the smug original.

Ah, now _this_ was a tactic he'd never considered before.

"Gladly," his clone said to his immense relief, which lasted all of a second, because before he could could protest, his clone was already pulling Hinata towards him by her wrist. "But I will be taking her with me."

Sometimes, he _really_ hated himself.

* * *

 _A/N: I released a NejiHina collection titled,_ _ **Devotion**_ _, if ya'll are into that. As always, if you're interested in my writing beyond fanfiction, then I do have a fantasy series out. URL on profile._

 _Please Review._


	35. 250 Words

_Disclaimer: I don't own Naruto._

* * *

 ** _Modern AU_**

 ** _Word Limit: 250 words_**

* * *

Shisui always teased him by saying how he must've dominated Hinata in the bedroom. Itachi let him. He wasn't one to kiss and tell, especially not pertaining to matters regarding his wife. Those were their secrets. And he doubted Shisui could handle them anyway.

He never wanted anyone else to know how Hinata had fucked his brains out—more than once—in his office. It was a gargantuan feat, considering the brains in question. They had done it on the very spot on his desk that Shisui liked to lean against, while complaining to him.

The most recent occurrence happened in the middle of the night when he'd decided to pull one of his rare all-nighters because of a budgeting mistake in their accounting department. Those responsible had been promptly fired or replaced, but not because he was angry about having to pick up their slack. It was just for the good of the company and so forth.

Besides, he couldn't hate them. Not when they were the reason Hinata had come to him, worry in her eyes and with boxes of takeout in her hands.

"You look tense," he remembered her saying, before she touched him.

The rest of the night was a pleasurable blur of skin and unimaginable heat. She knew exactly what her body did to him. The skimpy black lace she wore that night only made it better.

Itachi vividly recalled having to cancel all of his meetings the next day just so he could recover.

* * *

 _A/N: **Requests are open until January 4.** I **consider** them_ _. I only take whatever I find interesting. If it's accepted, you'll get a PM saying that it is. Anon requests are also considered._

 ** _EDIT:_** _All smut requests will be ignored. Sorry, I should've been more clear. I just hadn't expected so many of you to request M-rated chapters. I'm not a big fan of writing smut (though I do like reading it) and the only reason I wrote the last one was because it was a request from a good friend of mine, **crystalblue19.** I highly recommend checking her fics out if you need a steamy fix. They're damn wonderful._


	36. Sneaky

_Disclaimer: I don't own Naruto._

* * *

 _ **Request by 707-Megane: Modern AU. Random POV.**_

 _ **Features Ikose from Chapter 26.**_

* * *

His perfect, straight-laced boss was hiding something.

Ikose just _knew_ he was. No one could be that damned perfect. Uchiha Itachi was the young head of a successful international company, an early graduate of some of the most prestigious institutions in the world, and a handsome bachelor to boot. The man was the whole package. Sure, he'd had his fair share of scandals, but they always turned out false. His reputation counted amongst the cleanest in the business world.

Besides, it wasn't as if those in their company believed them to be true, considering the man's no-nonsense attitude. Itachi would break at the core first, before losing his control over himself. Hell, even he didn't dare question his virtues. As far as he was concerned, Itachi was touched by some divine light at birth. Yes, he'd been called a fanboy multiple times throughout his life for that one, but any employee of Uchiha Corp that claimed they weren't were dirty liars. Itachi had steered their company through several rocky situations with his perpetually calm face and commanding tone. They always came out on the winning side because of his leadership. His cousin, Shisui, was the exact same. Together, the two of them managed to negotiate bold—and as one reporter put it, _utterly astounding_ —trade deals that consistently made headlines in renowned economic journals.

Everyone was interested in them. If not for their looks or money, then for their ability to negotiate. Aya, however, had planted the idea in his head that Itachi led a secret double-life a fortnight ago, and now, Ikose couldn't get it out. The woman might've been his best friend since childhood, but she could be a real menace when she wanted to be. She could mess up his thoughts in under a second without even realizing it.

So, that was why Ikose was hiding under a table in the middle of the night on a Friday—the day Itachi usually went home later than everyone else. Ikose had tried staying longer than him a few times over the years. At one point, he'd even reached 4am, and Itachi was still there working. The man had thrown him a glance so sharp that Ikose had yelped and sped out the door before he could even think about stopping. Ikose always thought it was because his boss needed to make sure everything was running smoothly over the weekend, but now he wasn't so certain.

 _Shit! My neck hurts,_ he thought. _God, I should've thought this through better. Why did I even listen to Aya and her nonsense? What if he doesn't go home until six, or worse, what if he stays here until Monday? Maybe that's how he gets that inhumane amount of work done! I can't take that!_

He was thankfully proven wrong when after a moment, Itachi sighed.

The sound was sudden enough to startle him, though he piled his hands over his mouth to make sure that no sound escaped. It was followed by the soft sound of his computer powering off. Normally, he wouldn't have been able to hear that because Itachi's office door was usually closed. Not even his secretary could come in without express permission. On Friday nights, however, the door was always cracked open. That just made him even more suspicious. Itachi was definitely listening in on them with those keen ears of his. But why would he care what time they left?

Ikose waited a bit more until he heard Itachi grabbing his things.

He snuck out from his hiding spot, then made a mad dash out of the building. He knew enough about Itachi's habits to know that he'd speak to Shisui before leaving, then to a few guards about locking up, so he had plenty of time to leave first. Ikose didn't want to lose him by having to take the stairs, while he took the elevator. Ikose wasn't made for silence, but tonight, some distant ninja ancestor must've given him his blessing because he didn't make a peep. Not even when he sprinted down the hall to reach the elevator.

When he was finally outside, Ikose took note of the time.

 _Half past one,_ he read on his phone. _Not bad. He's definitely not out for shopping though. He doesn't take the car on Fridays, so he can't be going home. Aya said he lived across the city. A bar or a restaurant maybe?_

He was getting even more excited now.

Ikose grabbed himself a dozen steam buns from a nearby stall, so if he got caught, then he could at least pretend to be doing something. He waited a few minutes beside that stall for Itachi to come out. The thought of being fired didn't even cross his mind, possibly because the idea that Itachi might've actually been some undercover mafia leader or nighttime vigilante made him positively giddy inside. It would suit him perfectly. He could _hear_ his inner fanboy squeal in delight. Maybe he could be his sidekick!

Itachi emerged soon enough. Shisui leaned against the glass doors and waved goodbye. He made a drinking motion with one hand, then said something that his ears failed to catch—a meeting time maybe? Ikose watched Itachi nod, then wave off the guards that asked whether or not they needed to accompany him, before gliding down the stairs with his briefcase in hand. He made a sharp left turn once his feet hit concrete.

"Don't leave me hanging like last week!" Shisui called out. Itachi merely lifted a hand in a half-hearted acknowledgement that Shisui laughed at, before disappearing back inside of the building.

Ikose allowed some distance between them, before following.

It got more difficult to blend in the longer they walked. Itachi seemed to want to avoid all of the crowded areas that would've been shorter to pass through. Instead, he took small side roads or went around entire streets with only a few spatterings of people. Ikose widened the gap between them because of that, but it was easy enough to see him, despite the distance. Itachi was nothing, if not great at commanding attention.

Ikose ducked into an alleyway when Itachi stopped before a bar.

There were stairs that led down, obstructing the actual place from view.

 _I can't follow him there without getting caught. Damnit all._

"Awaku Ikose," Itachi called. His voice was soft, but it carried, and he let out a strangled gasp at the sound. He was _so_ dead. "Why are you following me?"

He didn't move. Ikose valued his life and his job, and he knew that if he so much as twitched, Itachi might actually end both. When Itachi realized he was frozen, however, he simply rolled his eyes. Ikose gaped at the sight. No matter how annoying anyone was, he'd never seen Itachi do _that._

"Frankly, I don't care. You can explain yourself on Monday. You should leave, before—"

"Itachi!" a distinctly feminine voice called. "You're back."

They both turned to find a woman there with long hair and kind, opalescent eyes. Her cheeks were red, though he wasn't sure if it was from the cold, booze, or the sight of his boss—he had that effect on people. She wore a sleeveless black button-up vest, dark pants, and a lavender apron around her waist.

"Oh, you brought a friend," she went on with a quick glance behind him. "Come on in."

* * *

Ikose could've died from happiness.

Was he really drinking with his boss? Was he really sitting down in a stool in one of the most quiet, upscale bars he'd ever seen in his life and being poured a glass of poison by a beautiful bartender beside _the_ Uchiha Itachi? Was this even reality?

Ikose pinched himself so hard his skin turned red. The area stung. This was definitely real.

The way Itachi raised an eyebrow at him as he did so wasn't something he'd ever expected to see. He'd always seen him as the perfect robot that he was. But here, in this bar, with him glancing every so often at the woman that drifted here and there to serve customers, he looked—dare he say it— _human._

"Why were you following me?" Itachi asked, shattering the silence between them into glass. There was no anger in his voice, but there was no warmth either.

Still… Ikose would rather die than admit the truth.

"I didn't _mean_ to," he said quickly. Too quickly. Ikose breathed to steady himself. "It's just, well, I saw you walking on the street. I debated calling out to you, but before I knew it, I was following instead."

Itachi gave him a look that told him he knew he was full of shit. But before he could refute his words that woman returned with her sashaying hips and shy smile. Ikose's eyes widened when Itachi's jaw closed and he swallowed whatever it was he was about to say. Itachi put his elbow on the counter, so he could cradle his chin, before leaning forward.

"Hinata," Itachi said, catching the woman's attention. His voice was so low that Ikose blushed. She barely spared him a glance. Instead, she dropped to her haunches to rearrange a few bottles along the counter's bottom shelves. "Are you listening to me?"

"Hmmm?"

The slight smile on Itachi's lips made Ikose's eyes widen.

"When does your shift end?"

"At five."

"Won't you close early?"

"I can't," she said, appearing briefly over the counter to shoot him an apologetic look. "I closed early last time you came, Itachi. I heard Shino and Kiba came looking for me. They said they plan to drop by again later."

Itachi hummed, though Ikose couldn't tell if it was one of deliberation or disapproval. He wasn't so well-versed in Itachi's mannerisms to know something like that.

"You're the owner," Itachi said after a moment. "You can do whatever you want."

She made a noise of disapproval that made Itachi's eyes soften.

Was this really his cold, calculating boss?

"Itachi came here to take cover from the rain one Saturday morning a few years ago," Hinata suddenly explained. She was looking at Ikose in full now. The weight of her gaze was both uplifting and heavy all at once, though perhaps it was only the latter because he also felt Itachi looking at him as well. As if just daring him to say something stupid. "Oh, how many years has it been now?"

"Seven," Itachi chimed.

"That was back when you were still… Vice-President?" she waited for Itachi to nod, before continuing. "Vice-President of Uchiha Corp. He's been coming here ever since."

Well, that explained the all-nighters on Fridays.

Frankly, Ikose was surprised that he hadn't made a move on this woman during all that time. Barely an hour drinking, and he could already tell that he was smitten with her. Ikose took a sip of his drink, while trying his best to discreetly watch his boss from the corner of his eye. The amber liquid burned all the way down, but he didn't even make a face. How could he? Itachi was drinking it straight, so he could damn well do the same!

"It's been seven years, Hinata," Itachi finally said. "When are you going to marry me?"

Ikose coughed. Hard. An hour ago, he didn't even know his boss had a girlfriend and now he suddenly had a fiancée? Oh, Aya was never going to believe this _._ Hell, he'd know several magazines that would pay him a pretty penny for this little tidbit of information—not that he would though. He wasn't a snake.

Ikose looked up to find Hinata blushing so hard that he feared she'd faint. He didn't blame her. He was a guy—a straight guy, though maybe he'd consider swinging the other way for Itachi—and that line made him feel hot all over.

"You and Shisui are always teasing me," she said with a huff. When she looked away, Itachi's eyes trailed down her neck and over her ample chest. They flew back up as soon as she faced him again.

 _Good god,_ Ikose thought. His boss was a sneaky pervert.

"Are father and Neji still giving you a hard time?" Hinata asked.

"They won't give you to me," Itachi said. "They're too overprotective for their own good. I'm seriously debating just taking you with me and eloping at this point."

" _Itachi_ ," she said. All love.

"I know." He took a sip of his drink. Itachi looked oddly forlorn. But just as Ikose caught sight of the look, it disappeared. Itachi grabbed her hand from across the counter and pressed a kiss against her fingertips, as if to further mark her as his.

Hinata was blushing again. "You still haven't introduced me to your friend."

"You know all of my friends," Itachi said easily. Ikose was jealous of how unruffled he was. It seemed that wasn't an act then, but actually a part of his general demeanor. "This is Ikose. He's an employee that followed me from the office."

" _I_ — _I_ didn't!" Ikose somehow managed to stutter out.

He would _die_ on this hill.

The three of them turned when the bell on top of the bar's door pealed, signaling the arrival of another customer. Hinata had on an easy smile to welcome the person, and it only widened when Shisui stepped inside.

"Itachi!" he called, smiling. "Have you proposed yet? If not, I'm going to steal your precious treasure awa—" Shisui stopped when he caught sight of Ikose. "Oh? What's this? You brought the little rat that was hiding out in the office. Is this some new form of hazing?"

Ikose promptly covered his face with both of his hands in embarrassment.


	37. Argument

_Disclaimer: I don't own Naruto._

* * *

 _ **Request by Cmoore90: Itachi and Hinata have a big fight.**_

* * *

The perpetually smiling woman he knew was gone. In her place was a furious tempest with unbound hair and a thin robe that slid loosely over her shoulders. Her eyes were daggers and her mouth was drawn into a thin, stubborn line that was heavy with disapproval.

There was still a shadow of loveliness over her, but it was promptly destroyed when her eyes hardened and the Byakugan appeared. Her eyes gleamed as white as bone. They were limned by the fragile light of the sun that peeked in from their open window. The appearance of her bloodline limit was more out of habit than out of a desire to harm him, Itachi knew, but he couldn't help but activate his Sharingan in response.

"Hinata," Itachi said. He didn't raise his voice, but he might as well have. His voice was rougher than usual, as if he'd been screaming. "Why must you continue doing this simply because your clan says—"

"I plan to change the Hyuga," she surprisingly cut in, "but that doesn't mean I need to trample on every tradition and order just because they're difficult."

"This order is _killing_ you. They want to teach you an ancient technique, they say? This is _not_ the way to do it. You come home with pulled muscles and fractured _bones_ every single night. Do you expect me not to worry?"

"I never said you shouldn't worry, but this is something that I need to do."

Itachi didn't ask about the technique. He knew she wouldn't divulge that kind of information to him, regardless if they were betrothed or not. But he had fought alongside many members of the Hyuga's Main House throughout his life, and he'd never seen them utilize anything so deadly. And in his opinion, there was no technique in the world that required her to get hurt up to this point.

"How are you so sure that the Main House isn't using this as an excuse to _beat_ you, Hinata?" he challenged. That seemed to set her off even more.

Itachi and Hinata were similar at their base. Right where it mattered most. And so, they both possessed extreme amounts of patience. On more than one occasion, Shisui joked that their combined tolerance was practically eternal. He wasn't wrong. It was hard for it to run dry. Raw anger didn't suit either of them, and few had ever claimed the full extent of their fury. But she was being _so_ stubborn, and he couldn't help but lose his cool.

Couldn't she realize that if she carried on like this, then she'd disappear from him completely? Every day, she jumped right out of his grasp and into a place he wasn't able to save her from. And all because of the desires of the uppers in her _clan._ He felt both pride and hate for that godforsaken word.

"Neji-niisan would never allow it!" she finally managed to shout back at him.

"Neji?" he repeated. His mind did a quick spiel of _don't say it,_ but his mouth was already forming the words. "He tried to _kill_ you! Don't tell me he, of all people—"

"Don't insult him!" She yelled. "I won't forgive you, Itachi."

"Then what am I supposed to do?"

"Nothing! This is something all heirs of the Hyuga must go through. It is resilience training. I won't quit because of your prejudices against internal clan affairs."

"This isn't about my personal prejudices, it's about you coming home in _this,_ " he gestured to her bandaged form, "sorry state every night for what? The past two weeks? How long do you expect me to sit back and say nothing as you return to me all battered like this?"

"It can't be helped! This… This…" There were tears prickling her eyes, he realized. "Is _my_ weakness."

"Like hell it is!" he finally roared.

"I am _learning,_ Itachi. Can't you see that?"

"Do you plan to change the Hyuga training method as well? Because that, frankly, is where you _should_ be starting. The cursed seal can wait as far as I'm concerned."

"How could you say that? That seal is… do you know what it's done to my clan? All of the hate and," she cut herself off with a sudden shake of her head. "Enough. I am _not_ going to listen to you, Itachi. I don't tell you how you should handle matters concerning the Uchiha."

"Because they don't beat me, Hinata," he shot back. "Why must you put yourself through this?"

"I need to get stronger."

"You can lean on me! I have all of this power. Just say the word and—"

"I can't depend on you for everything, Itachi. As heirs, you and I both know that the clan always comes first. No. More than that, our _siblings_ will always come first. I can't rely on you to protect those precious to me forever."

"Your strength lies in areas outside of violence. Why can't you see that?"

"I do! But that type of strength is also necessary, and I need to harden myself."

He never wanted to see the day when she steeled herself the same way he had. No. He'd die first. "If you aren't at least willing to try relying on me for important matters like this, then why are we getting married?"

She looked stricken at the words. He knew instantly that she'd taken it the wrong way. It was meant as a rhetorical question, but Hinata's self-esteem had been minuscule since she was a child. So, Itachi _knew_ where her mind went. When she spoke again, his thoughts were proven right.

"Do you regret asking me then?" she asked, quieter now, but no less furious. "We both know this hangs mostly on you, Itachi. If you say you want to back out, no one will question it."

"That's not what I meant," he said, but the words were nothing more than ghosts of themselves.

Hinata raised her chin at him. All stark white eyes and righteousness. Itachi expected defiance, but what surprised him was the look in her eyes. It was black and boiling in a way he'd never witnessed before. There was power in being able to enrage her to that point, but there was shame, too. Still, he wouldn't give in. This wasn't up for debate. He wouldn't stand idly by, while she continued to _train_ with members of the Main House to the point of ruin.

"I know," she finally said.

It was so low it seemed almost like a whisper from a dream. If she had said anything else, he would've dismissed it as another argument; if she had said anything less _understanding,_ he would've crushed it as ruthlessly with his words as he did his enemies—but she hadn't. And the answer was so _Hinata_ that he couldn't help the swell of warmth in his chest at how ridiculously sympathetic she could be, despite her own fury.

Itachi didn't speak. Though it wasn't as if Hinata waited for him to. She simply turned on her heel and left him there. The door slammed shut with her departure. Its dying echo bounced along the walls. A noisy ending that brought a peaceful stillness around him.

"Shit," Itachi muttered, as he ran his hands through his hair in irritation. The floor seemed to pitch under his feet. He needed to cool off, before he spoke to her again. He _knew_ that, but…

 _Why are you still standing there?_ He heard in Shisui's voice. His cousin, no, his _brother_ , and one of the few men in the Uchiha Clan that made his life there more bearable—just as Neji was for her. The man was overprotective to an annoying degree. He definitely wouldn't let anything happen to her unless it was absolutely necessary. But Itachi still couldn't help but question whether or not it really was training for a new technique. Because if nothing else, he knew the Hyuga, and he knew how a good number of them treated her both as a child and as an adult.

Though it wasn't as if that mattered now. He'd go to her regardless. And if it just so happened that it really wasn't a technique, but a twisted excuse they used to take advantage of her willingness to please, then he swore to beat every single one of those power-hungry members of her clan until they feared even the thought of summoning their chakra. Itachi swore they'd see what it was like when he only saw red.

But for now…

Itachi rolled his shoulders and followed her.

* * *

 _A/N: It's hard to find a reason for them to have a serious fight. Sorry for any OOC-ness. Please review._


	38. Permission

_Disclaimer: I don't own Naruto._

* * *

 _ **Request by Hinata Centric: Hiashi reacting to Itachi's request to court Hinata.**_

 _ **Hiashi's POV**_

* * *

"I would like to pursue Hinata with the intention of marriage," a pause, before, "Will you allow it?"

Hiashi blinked blankly back at the man seated before him.

Uchiha Itachi, heir and genius of his clan, was asking for his daughter's hand. He'd once thought there was a limit to absurdity, but clearly, he was wrong. How did Hinata—his kind, tender, overly affectionate daughter—manage to get the attention of someone that he very much believed to be death's companion? Itachi was already a man sent by the village to do their bloodiest tasks when his daughter was barely a teenager. Truthfully, he would've even expected him to request for Hanabi's hand, rather than Hinata's. She seemed too… _soft_ for the Uchiha heir.

Hiashi would've thought that it was a strategy, so the Uchiha could gain a foothold in Hyuga affairs, if not for the fact that Itachi had never show interest in anyone else, regardless of their status. He'd even been approached by the feudal lord's daughter once, before proceeding to mercilessly shoot her down. It had been the talk of the village for weeks.

Of course he personally believed Hinata to be the better option. No one could compare to either of his beautiful daughters, but he wasn't foolish enough to not realize that that was a father's bias. Itachi could have his pick of any woman in the world.

"I thought you were only doing this to dissuade the bolder noblewomen's families from sending you meeting requests," Hiashi said as calmly as possible. He even took a sip of tea like he needed to emphasize how unconcerned he was about the request Itachi had suddenly thrown at him.

"I was more interested than I imagined I'd be."

"Clearly."

"She's… your daughter is lovely. One of the most charming women I've ever met."

"She takes after her mother."

"I see."

Ancestors, this was uncomfortable.

Hiashi didn't think Itachi would ever take an interest in either of his daughters. That was why he wasn't fully processing this at the moment. He couldn't exactly say no. Hiashi was loathe to admit that he was more than qualified to pursue Hinata. He was a soon-to-be clan head and was one of the village's most powerful ninjas. His accomplishments were endless. More important than his qualifications, however, was the fact that Hinata would be well taken care of with him. She'd even be placed in a position of power within another clan, which would surely please the Elders.

But political issues aside, he was a wonderful candidate. Better than he could ever hope for, considering he was already a ninja of Konoha. The next best thing in terms of equal power and wealth to Hinata was the feudal lord's son. Hiashi wouldn't trust that spoiled snake with a teacup, let alone his daughter. There were other ninja clan heads interested in marriage, but Itachi was…

 _He's perfect,_ he thought, annoyed.

"Why Hinata?" Hiashi asked, outright. Miracles happened, but this was just so incredibly convenient. There _had_ to be a reason other than just desire.

Itachi opened his mouth to speak, but a knock on the door interrupted him.

"Sweets, father," Hinata said through the door.

"Come in," Hiashi said.

Hinata opened the door. She bowed to both of them, before gracefully laying out their snacks. Hiashi's eyes thinned at the colorful dango. Prior experience with Itachi made him realize that it was his preferred food, but right now it seemed _too_ welcoming.

She had a blush on her face, as she smiled at Itachi. His face remained impassive, though he did unconsciously turn to face her. As an incredibly disciplined individual himself, Hiashi knew that that kind of reflexive reaction only happened when it concerned someone he cared for. He didn't know how it worked for Itachi, but for him, care only arose for three reasons—when the individual was family or if he'd bled or slept with them. Hiashi knew for a fact that Hinata had only been sent on one mission with Itachi.

His eyes narrowed at the way his eyes followed her as she left the room, albeit discreetly. Hiashi was trained to spot even the most minor of movements. A genius, Itachi might be, but he was still just a boy compared to him.

And yet… Hiashi promptly threw any sexual suspicions to the furthest reaches of his mind like a juvenile schoolboy. Hiashi didn't even want to consider the possibility. Never mind that his daughter would never do such a thing—and that was another reason that made him hesitate. She was still so inexperienced in ways that the Uchiha likely wasn't.

Once Hinata finally left, Itachi faced him in full again.

"Well?" Hiashi prompted, then repeated the question. "Why Hinata?"

He would throw him right out of this manor and lock the gates if he heard anything that displeased him.

To his surprise, Itachi sighed in a way that reminded him of Fugaku when he was younger; when his eyes would trail across the halls within the Hokage's building whenever he so much as caught a trace of Mikoto's chakra. The sound of it was barely audible, but there was something almost helpless _—hopeless_ —about it _._

"Would you refuse me," Itachi said earnestly, "if I told you that I'm still trying to figure that out for myself?"

"Yet you ask for my permission to court her? If I say yes, and you suddenly find yourself uninterested after a few outings, will you drop that intention of marriage midway and simply use my daughter to relieve your urges?"

"Never," he responded immediately because anything more than a moment's pause would've been an instant denial from Hiashi. "If I thought I'd find myself uninterested, then I wouldn't be here now. I simply want to pinpoint what exactly it is that caught my attention, before responding to that question. As it stands right now, all I can say is that I like her as a person. As Hyuga Hinata. I want her by my side."

No overly flowery words. No promises. More importantly, no _lies._

Still, it wasn't enough for him.

"She's my daughter," Hiashi said, suddenly very tired. Having daughters somehow seemed infinitely more difficult than having sons. "Despite all that you are and all that you will be in the future, I'll always find a reason to say no. So, don't take my hesitancy as an affront. The Uchiha raised you well. Anyone can see that."

"Does that mean…?" Itachi let the question hang.

"It means yes." Hiashi stood to leave, but not before shooting him a glance filled with warning. "Don't make me regret it."

* * *

 _A/N:_ _Please Review._


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